By Dana
This Story Won First Prize in Our Contest
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Here’s the thing about being dead in high school: you still have to show up for class, but at least you can’t get detention anymore. I died on a Tuesday during fifth-period calculus, which was actually pretty convenient because I had a test I hadn’t studied for. Mrs. Peterson marked me as “permanently absent” but still expects me to turn in my homework. Being dead, it turns out, isn’t a valid excuse for missing assignments.
My best friend Jenny can still see me, but only when she’s not trying too hard. “You’re like one of those Magic Eye posters,” she tells me during lunch, while I hover over the cafeteria table where my body used to sit. “If I look directly at you, you disappear, but I can totally see you eating my fries from the corner of my eye.” I’m not actually eating her fries—the dead can’t eat—but old habits die harder than people do.
My locker still works, which is weird because I took that combination to the grave. The school janitor, Mr. Rodriguez, says it’s because “teenage ghosts are still teenagers first, ghosts second.” He can see me because he’s been working here since the 1970s and claims he’s seen everything, including the ghost of the former gym teacher who still makes dead kids run laps when they misbehave in the afterlife.
My crush, Adam Parker, hasn’t noticed I’m dead. To be fair, he didn’t notice I was alive either. Death has given me the confidence to sit next to him in chemistry, where I whisper all the right answers in his ear. He thinks he’s having scientific breakthroughs. His grades have never been better. My ghost counselor says this is “unhealthy attachment behavior,” but she’s just mad because she died during the SATs in 1992 and still hasn’t gotten her scores back.
Mom keeps my room exactly the same, except she’s started collecting self-help books with titles like When Your Teenager Takes Ghost Form and Parenting Through the Paranormal. Dad deals with it by making terrible puns about how I’m “dead serious” about my studies and how my college applications are now for “ghost-graduate programs.” I appreciate the effort, even if I roll my eyes so hard they’d fall out if they weren’t already incorporeal.
The college counselor still wants to meet with me about my future plans. “Just because you’re deceased doesn’t mean you shouldn’t think about career options,” she says to the apparently empty chair in her office. “Have you considered paranormal psychology? It would be like having an insider’s perspective.” I want to tell her that being dead is basically a full-time job already, what with all the floating through walls and accidentally scaring the freshman class.
The worst part isn’t being dead—it’s that I still have to attend school board meetings as student body president. Death apparently isn’t a good enough reason to resign from student government. Last week, I had to give a speech about increasing school spirit, which seemed pretty ironic coming from an actual spirit. At least now when I say, “I’d rather die than give another presentation,” I know exactly what that feels like.
Jenny tries to set me up with the ghost of a boy who died in the library during finals week in 1986. He’s cute, in a translucent kind of way, but he won’t stop talking about how music died with The Smiths. He says he remembers what it feels like to be in love with someone who can’t see him. I say, “Same.”
Sometimes I hang out in the astronomy classroom after hours, floating near the ceiling and thinking about how being dead is a lot like being alive, just with less homework and better attendance. The stars look different now, like they’re telling jokes instead of keeping secrets. Mr. Rodriguez says that’s because “the universe has a sense of humor—you just have to be dead to get the punchline.”
Next week is prom, and Jenny’s trying to figure out how to save me a dance. “We could say it’s performance art,” she suggests, practicing slow-dancing with what looks like empty air. Adam Parker still hasn’t asked me to go with him, but being dead has taught me that some things are worth waiting for, even if you have to wait forever.
After all, what’s the rush when you have an eternity of fifth-period calculus ahead of you?
Yours was the first piece I read today Dana, and it was a great start to my day! Love the wit and humor! A really enjoyable read.
Thank you for the smiles!
Fantastic smart piece of fiction
Dana, I LOVE this story! It’s entertaining, original, and creative. Congrtlations on a great story.
Whoa! Clever, entertaining and phantasmagorically out of this world! Well done, Dana.
Great story. I hope this spirit graduates soon. There’s way more to afterlife than high school!
What a ride! Very clever; I loved it.
Cleverly written, and it seems fresh despite starting from a concept that has been used many times before (cf. Death Becomes Her, or Dead Like Me 🙂 ). I laughed out loud at several lines. Great job!
This…was an incredible read! I’m very glad I had the liberty of reading this out loud by myself.
I smiled all the way through!
This is a clever story–something different and so creative. My favorite part was about your crush and how he didn’t notice you when you were alive. Very funny.
A flash of brilliance! Struck me as coming of death instead of coming of age story. Nice teen twist.
This story deserves all the accolades it has received…it’s funny and smart and sharp, each idea zings across the page. It’s not often you read a story that is clever and well written, this is both.
I hovered over the screen while someone else read the story and thought ‘Finally, someone who gets me!’
Eternally entertained
Very creative story. Well done!
Your story is so dynamic. I couldn’t wait to read the next line and peel back the next layer. Well done and congratulations!
Tons of wit and so much fun to read!
Congratulations
Really enjoyed your story
I loved this story! Very creative!
Very funny. I love the reactions of all the minor characters. I guess one of the things that sucks about death is how life goes on.
Very fun. Great title. I particularly enjoyed the lines “but old habits die harder than people do” and “she’s just mad because she died during the SATs in 1992 and still hasn’t gotten her scores back”
Great to see the 80s revival continue! Going to go watch the latest Stranger Things to honour this piece!
Lowkey ahh
So funny! And yet, I kept seeing her ‘dead and yet going through life’s motions’ existence as a metaphor for depression. I know it so well. Oh, what an exceptional piece of work!
As some said above, a wonderful way of sharing a morning cup of coffee
I laughed out loud all the way through this story. Can identify with the feeling of being dead. It suggests that you are bored with the rhythm of your environment.
Well done. Your story is my favorite, since I started reading from the top of the 1st prize list.
Refreshingly unique!