The Girl Who Was Buried in Her Ball Gown

It was such a strange space. Something I had never imagined before, but all around me were pockets of light; different sizes, different shapes, even different shades of colour and brightness. Many were black and looked empty. I was in a space, icy cold and absolutely confusing.

I turned to look at the girl and she looked different. Her face was nearly the same as before, but gaunter and it seemed to be projected forward, like a hologram. The lovely face that beckoned me the first time we had met at the hospital, was hidden behind this holographic mask. Her jaw jutted outwards slightly and her eyes were black sockets, dancing a wandering jig, never focusing. Her body and limbs looked famished and she was all jittery and couldn’t seem to stand still for a second. Maybe she felt uncomfortable within these mirrors, or did these mirrors cause us to refract into different forms? It made me wonder why. Perhaps I look different too, within this crazy prism of glass and mirrors? Ah well, it sure seemed an exciting place, but pretty daunting.

How could anyone ever work out where they wanted to go? I mean really, it seemed like you could go anywhere… anywhere that had some kind of a mirror, or in certain cases, a window was all you needed. However, the windows were apparently more difficult to tackle as they were not so visible, more dangerous to navigate and so I didn’t even bother with them.

“You know, it’s not a good idea to use too many windows,” the gaunt girl with the raven hair told me. “They are more fragile and dangerous to pass through than mirrors.”

“They look boring anyway.” I replied. “It’s just like looking out of some skyscraper, or maybe, the principal’s office window.”

“Now there’s something you don’t want to do too much of. Have you been in the principal’s office before, hmm?”

“Nah. What about you?”

“Oh yeah, plenty of times...” So, we chatted and giggled just like girlfriends.

Any pocket of glass, or portal I stood in front of, or rather – floated in front of – I could see right through and into whatever might be behind it, or more correctly, in front of it. I wasn’t the only one in this crazy place either, there were heaps of us. How we all fitted in or managed to negotiate around each other, I could not nut out. It just sort of happened; like we were a school of fish that navigated as a swarm. So, were we… a swarm of ghosts? We could all go here and then there, on our own, or in two’s, or twenty’s and simply disappear through one of the many lights (well actually, mirrors). Or some would reappear. However, for the brave, and the stupid, they could jump out of a window, any window. We were an amazingly choreographed dancing swarm of dead people. I did notice that there were different types of people within the place of mirrors, it almost seemed like various species. Sure, there were many cultures about. I saw Indians, Asians, Maoris, Africans… many different cultures, but there was an apparent difference amidst the cultures and some people appeared as – well – people. Tall, skinny, fat, short and whatever; but I estimated about two–thirds to be more like — the girl that bought me into here — gaunt, black eyes, famished and jittery in variant degrees, with the imagery of something else projected from within themselves and without. How did I appear in here?

I looked down at my arms and legs and they were skinny for sure, I was always on the lighter side. But they didn’t look skinny and famished like the Maori girl’s.

“Why do we look different within here?” I asked her.

She said, “Oh, don’t worry about that… all newbies look like you. Us skinnier people have just been here a little longer.” Well, I couldn’t exactly argue with that now, could I? So, I just had to accept it.

Standing in front of a mirror was unbelievable. And, had I known what was behind my own mirror, when I was still alive, I would have done things very differently, that’s for sure. It’s like a whole other world is watching the living world, very eerie. I could see everything, and anything — from pimple squeezing to hair teasing and all things that were in between. Some things I lingered and watched, mesmerized and other things I just did not want to see! And oh, the things I learned, my goodness! Things a young girl should never have seen, or learned at my sensitive age; they had me pinned to my – ahh, space as it were. I even remember – and this was gut wrenching – seeing people ripped from the life they had always known, into my current existence. One was graphically murdered. I watched, disgusted and I hated it!

In amongst our amazing dance I met one male ghost, who had an arm missing, also one third of his head along with his eye! Boy, was I curious about his appearance and he happily explained to me what had happened and why it was, that windows were more dangerous to pass through, or to linger in front of, than mirrors.

“Well, it’s because they get broken more often,” He stated flatly.

“Great!” I mused. “Well that cleared that up!” I was none the wiser.

He explained further. “If you find yourself within a mirror, or a window and at that moment it is broken, then you will usually shatter with the glass, into a million pieces. In my case however, I only shattered into a few pieces and that is why I’m missing some of my bits!” Gosh, where was this conversation going? I thought.

“Okay, so if you shatter into a million pieces, then what? Can’t you just get yourself back together again?”

“Unfortunately, it’s not that easy. Once it has happened you basically, no longer exist I imagine. That’s it! Your journey is kaput! Nothing! I suppose you will just blow away like chaff in the wind. My eye is still wandering out there somewhere and it really does my head in. It’s open still, spinning and floating to, who knows where; but I can still see it all within my attached head. I have no idea where it goes. I just wish it would close shut, or be – I don’t know – melted down with the broken glass. I’ve tried to find it, so I can fix it one way or another, but I’ve had no luck yet.”

As he was talking I caught a glimpse of the screwdriver–no longer–through–the–head guy, from the hospital. I called out and he saw me. Maybe he thought he would get lucky this time. Yep, he came over and was still trying to chat me up. Gahh, do boys ever change?

The Maori girl whispered, “Maybe you two should just – disappear somewhere together. Ha ha!” Yeah right.

“I’m not that kind of a girl, I mean... ghost!” I told her. She disappeared herself after that, still laughing and left us to our own hormones. Gee thanks!

We talked, we jumped into one mirror and found ourselves on a nice beach, courtesy of the car parked there. Then we found a moonlight view atop a mountain, because of the mirror in a cabin that was up there. It was fun and we did seem to be getting along well, maybe he wasn’t so bad after all. We walked, well drifted, through the forests and watched the wildlife. We also watched a tramping couple making love; we couldn’t help but giggle and joke about it. Maybe I could still find that awakening yet within myself? It was still there, I’m sure, like a pot of water that was over some campfire embers. Yes... slowly warming up. But not with this guy. He was still in love with his ex-girlfriend that he could no longer have.

“Hey, why don’t we pay her a visit? You know, my ex.”

“You’re joking, right?” I complained.

“No no, come on. Why not?” I didn’t think it was a good idea but silly me went along anyway.

The minute we were in front of her mirror I knew it was the stupidest idea ever. “Come on,” I said, “let’s get out of here.” There they were, puffing and panting and moaning like rabid dogs. Buck naked and without a care.

“No way! Michelle!” He was boiling mad! He jumped into the mirror and started to smoke himself up something chronic! He surrounded himself with imploding black smoke, the same I had seen back at the cemetery, when the Maori girl had imitated me!

He began shouting. “You whore! Who the hell are you? Jason! You bastard! How long has this been going on for?” The two naked lovers went white, and Michelle reacted with an earsplitting scream. Her eyes widened like polished saucers as she tried to cover her perky pink breasts with the sheet. Jason was shaking like a leaf and his mouth opened and closed like a fish.

“Adrian! How? I didn’t mean.... You’re dead!” Adrian, so that was his name?

“You’ve got that bloody right. So, is this why you left me, for him? I guess he’s the bloody reason I killed myself! You arsehole! Well now it’s time for you to join me!” He tried to pull Michelle off Jason to throttle him, but his muscular arms simply passed right through her. All the same, there was shock in Jason’s eyes. Adrian was now shaking violently, hopelessly breaking up as he realised he could not touch him. He started rubbing his eyes fiercely with closed fists, pushing away his angry tears. “I might not be able to touch you Jason. But I’ll haunt you! Yeah, that’s right! I’ll bloody haunt you, to your grave!” He laughed at his wicked idea. “Just wait Jason! I’ll be seeing you again! Michelle, I might even pay you a visit too!” The couple’s terror–filled eyes was enough to tell me, we should never have come here. As we left, he was still in a rage from it all. “That bloody Jason!”

“Jason Sutherland,” I finished for him.

“You know him?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, he was my best mate. I didn’t think he would do this. I didn’t even think Michelle would. Although, a few weeks ago at a party, I did see them kissing, only briefly. They saw me too, but I didn’t think it was much. Looks like I was bloody wrong! I’m coming back here. I’ll go wherever he goes! He’s going to regret this. Look out Jason! You’re marked!” He yelled, as he turned and waved his fist in the direction of where we left the two forbidden lovers.

“Just let it go – ah – Adrian. It’s too late now anyway.” I knew by the look in his eye, he wasn’t listening. As we left, I tried to change the subject. “Hey, how do you do that smoke thing? You know, to make yourself visible. The Maori girl did it, but she changed into me.”

“I can’t change into anyone else. That’s weird. I guess it happens when you are really in a mood, some kind of mood. Happy, angry, whatever. But it has to be intense I guess.”

“You were pretty intense back there, that’s for sure.”

“Yeah I was. Totally shocked actually. It only lasts for a little while though. I suppose the more intense, the longer you appear to the living.” The living... that sounded so odd. The living, the dead; which was more real? I couldn’t tell.

“You said you knew him?” He asked and I nodded. “How?”

“He was one of the older boys at school. He asked me to the ball. I’m sure glad I didn’t go with him.” My thoughts wandered then. Maybe I might go and visit Martin; see if I can appear for him, I thought with a little giggle.