Afterlife Academy (5 page)

“What about people who have had
near-death experiences?” I ask.

“Depending on how long they were
clinically dead for, it’s possible that they may have seen some part of our
world, but it is very unlikely that they would remember it and it would only be
in flashes. They would be unlikely to think it was anything other than a dream.”

“What happens to adults who
die?” I ask. “If kids and teenagers come here, what about adults?”

“It’s different for everybody,”
he says.

“What happened to you?”

“I died. I got a job here. Can
we please get back on topic?”

“You did ask if there were any
questions. I want to know what happens.”

“All you have to worry about is
what happened to
you
. You passed away as a
teenager. Here you will finish your education until such time as you graduate
and move on to something else.”

“What will that be?”

“I don’t know, Miss Richardson.
No one knows until you get there. A magic eight ball would probably be more
helpful at this point.”

“What if we don’t graduate?”

“You will graduate when you’re
ready to.”

“Do we go heaven?”

“No one knows the answer to
that.”

“What about the people who have
already graduated? Don’t they ever pop back and tell you?”

“No,” he says. “Once you leave
here, you can’t come back. That’s the law of our world.”

“Could you be more cryptic?” I
mutter.

“Any other questions?” he asks,
ignoring mine.

“Will we ever be able to see our
families again?” Anthony asks.

“There is Visualisation class.
You may be able to glimpse them, but you will not be able to contact them.
However, we do understand that it can be painful for some students, so
Visualisation is not compulsory for everyone.”

“So that’s it?” I ask. “Just
‘oops, you died’?”

“We try to be sympathetic but
facing things head-on rather than ducking away from them is our policy.
Personally, I think it’s a good approach. You’re all young adults, and yes
something bad has happened to you, but there’s no point in beating around the
bush about it. This is how things are. Deal with it.”

I nod. I half appreciate this
approach and half wish they’d be a bit more sympathetic.

“Okay,” Mr Burgrove says. “That’s
it for today. The rest of the evening is free. It’s the perfect time to make a
few friends. Class starts at eight o’clock sharp in the morning. Do not be
late. If you have any questions, you can ask your resident advisor who is
always on the reception desk inside the dormitories or you can find me in the
staff room at any time.”

We nod as he picks up his bag
and leaves.

I cast a last glance at the
dinner lady with horns as Anthony and I walk outside.

It’s still quiet everywhere.
Obviously the lessons haven’t finished yet.

I can’t help but wonder what on
earth is in store for me tomorrow. I can’t bear the thought of never seeing my
family again. Or Wade. How am I supposed to live without Wade?

They’ve made a mistake. I swear
they have. I’m not supposed to be here. I can’t be here.

Girls like me don’t just die.

“So,” Anthony says, snapping me
out of my thoughts. “That was weird.”

“Everything about this place is
weird.”

“Did you find your own clothes
in a suitcase on the bed?”

“Yes.” I nod.

“Well, so far we have magical
suitcases, a cook with horns, and a growling pumpkin.”

I ignore him.

“Where is this growling
pumpkin?”

“In my dorm room,” I say.
“Sitting on a table by the window.”

“You sure it wasn’t a dog
outside or something?”

“No, it was definitely the pumpkin.
I felt it move. It looks seriously evil.”

“I don’t know why I’m surprised.
So far we’ve seen a woman who died in 1949, a kid disappear into thin air, and
a woman with horns coming out of her forehead. And my resident advisor is so
old I have no idea how he can even stand up.”

“Mine too,” I say. “And he can
run up the stairs like nobody’s business.”

“I don’t like the whole
people-disappearing thing,” Anthony says. “Creeps me out.”

“Everything creeps me out. My RA
just appeared in the door of my room twice because I was late and distracted by
a pumpkin.”

“Do you think we’ll be able to
do the disappearing thing? That would be so cool.”

I roll my eyes at him.

“What about invisibility? Do you
think we’ll be able to be invisible?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Ghosts are
generally invisible, aren’t they? Not that it would do you much good here. I
suppose it would be okay to be invisible if we could go back home. But then
again, Wade would never take me to the prom if I was invisible.”

“Can’t you think about anything else?”
Anthony snaps. “Wade this, Wade that. Wade is a murderer. Wade killed us. I
know you don’t give a damn about me, but Wade killed you too. You should hate
him for that.”

“I do give a damn about you,” I
protest. “The way Wade treated you earlier was wrong. I tried to stop him,
remember?”

Anthony shrugs.

“He didn’t mean to hurt anyone.
He was just being Wade. Okay, so he can be a bit of a jerk sometimes, but he’s
the most popular boy in our school. Who wouldn’t be a jerk occasionally?”

“He hit me with a car!”

“It was an accident.”

“Yeah, well, somehow you and I
have come off a lot worse than he has.”

“You don’t know that,” I tell
him. “He could be seriously injured himself.”

Oh my god, why did I have to say
that? Thinking about Wade being hurt makes my stomach turn. Wade hurt with no
one to take care of him. Without me to look after him. What will he do? He must
be devastated. He’s just lost his girlfriend. And I bet he blames himself. He’s
probably lying in a hospital bed right now, feeling so bad because of what
happened, and even though it wasn’t his fault, it kind of
was
his fault, so he must be blaming himself for it.

I bet he really needs a hug.

I miss him so much it’s almost
unbearable.

But, as Anthony so kindly
pointed out, he’s obviously better off than us because he’s still alive.

But that’s not the point. Anyone
can have an accident. It was my choice to get in the car with him, even though
I knew he’d taken it without permission. I can’t blame him for what happened.

“Riley,” Anthony snaps. “Stop thinking
about that idiot. We have slightly more important things to worry about.”

“Like how we’re going to get out
of here?”

“We can’t get out of here.
Didn’t you hear what Mr Burgrove just said?”

I shrug. I don’t say anything to
Anthony, but if there’s a way in there must also be a way out. I would really
like to find it.

“So…” I change the subject
abruptly. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you actually seem like you want to be
here.”

He shrugs. “I guess I kind of
do. Well, not really, but… Oh, I don’t know.” But he’s smiling so obviously he
does know. “It’s just that I like the structure of school and the idea of this
place. I had always imagined heaven as being a sort of lame place, y’know,
where you just wander around aimlessly and do nothing.”

“That sounds like a really good
plan to me,” I interject.

“And I love the invisibility
thing. I want to become a ghost and go back to Earth and get revenge on all the
people who were rotten to me in school.”

“That would take quite a while,”
I mutter, feeling slightly guilty.

Okay, I was pretty awful to
Anthony, but he was kind of an easy target. People laughed at me for stealing
his glasses in class or hiding his gym bag so he’d have to do gym in his
underwear. It’s not like I ever meant to really hurt him. I just wanted to make
other people like me.

“I guess you should start with
me,” I say.

He shrugs. “I think this is
punishment enough.”

“No kidding.”

He grins at me.

There is a bit of noise going on
around the school now, so I guess classes just finished.

“I should go,” I say. “I think I
have a roommate to meet.”

“Me too,” he says. “I guess I’ll
see you at dinner?”

“Sure, why not?”

Usually I wouldn’t be seen dead
anywhere near Anthony, but I guess being killed in a car accident changes
things a bit.

CHAPTER 6

I wave to the ancient resident advisor as I go in the
dormitory door and trudge up the stairs.

I can’t help but notice there
are two smoke alarms on the ceiling, one on the wall, one in the reception
area, and probably more along the corridor and on the higher floors. How many
fire alarms does one place full of already dead people need? There are fire
extinguishers everywhere as well in full view, easy to grab. Why so many? It’s
not like we can die again, is it?

When I get to my room the door
is slightly ajar, so I guess my roommate is back from class. I knock lightly.
Yes, I know it’s my room, but I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot with
her.

“Yo,” comes a voice from the
other side.

I push the door open.

“Hi,” I say gingerly. “I’m Ri—”

“Riley Richardson.” She spins to
face me.

“Yes,” I say. How come everybody
knows who I am before I can introduce myself?

“Well, don’t just stand there,”
she says. “Come on in.”

I walk in and close the door
behind me.

“I’m Caydi,” she says. “Caydi
with an
i
. C-A-Y-D-I. I hate it when people
spell it wrong.”

I nod. As I had guessed from her
cosmetics, she’s a Goth. Grey clothing, grey skin, and dark grey hair with
loads of black eye make-up. She’s very pretty though, but like everything else,
completely colourless.

“So,” she says. “You can take
the bottom bunk. I like sleeping up high.”

I nod.

“Do you speak?”

“Yes,” I say. “Sorry, I’m just a
bit freaked out to be here.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

“How long have you been here?”

“About six months,” she says.
“And you arrived, what, two hours ago?”

I shrug. “Something like that.”

“And this is your old school?”

“Yeah, I suppose. Except that my
old school was colourful and alive.”

“Yeah, well, don’t think too
much of it. Living isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

“So, how did you, you know…”

“Die?”

I nod.

“Cut my wrists,” she says. “I
was only doing it for attention but I went too far and bled out before anyone
found me.”

“Oh. That’s awful.”

“I don’t mind so much actually.
This place isn’t so bad.”

I nod like that makes sense to
me.

“And you?” Caydi asks.

“Car accident,” I admit. “My
boyfriend was driving and we hit this other kid—he’s here too—and then we
crashed into something.”

“That sucks,” she says.

I nod.

“And your boyfriend?”

My stomach flip-flops at the
thought of Wade again.

“I don’t know,” I say. “He’s not
here so I guess he isn’t dead, but he could be seriously injured. Do you know
of a way I can contact him?”

“The dead can’t contact the
living. You may be able to see him if you pay attention in Visualisation class,
but that’s all.”

“People keep saying that,” I
say. “But we can’t just be completely cut off from our families and friends.
It’s not fair.”

“Your life ended,” she states.
“That’s what happens when life ends. It’s a lot easier if you just accept it
and move on.”

“I can’t accept that I’m never
going to see the boy I love again,” I say. “Or my parents.”

Oh God, my parents. They must be
devastated.

And mad.

Really, really mad.

If I wasn’t already dead, they
would kill me for getting into a car with Wade. And for skipping school.

I sit down on the bed and pick
up the photos that had been in my suitcase.

“Is that them?” Caydi asks.

I nod and show her the photos.

“He’s cute,” she says when she
sees Wade.

“Everybody thinks that,” I say.
“He’s the most popular boy in school.”

“That must make you very
popular. Or very envied.”

“Both,” I say. “But popular
mostly.”

“Pfft. Figures I’d get stuck
with a bloody prom queen for a roommate,” Caydi says, sounding most
unimpressed.

“I’m not a prom queen,” I
protest. I mean, I probably would be if our school listened to my petition to let
us have proms, but she doesn’t need to know that.

“Why do you have brown hair
anyway?”

“Because it’s my hair colour?” I
stare at her like she’s gone mad.

“No, I mean, how come you’re
still brunette? Everyone in this place has black or grey hair. No one keeps
their living colour when they come here.”

I grab my ponytail and pull it
around so I can see it.

She’s right. My hair is still
brown. The same chestnut brown with blond highlights that it’s always been.

“Maybe it takes a while to kick
in,” I venture. But that can’t be right because Anthony is already grey.

“It kicks in the moment you
die,” she says. “I don’t know why. No one knows why, but it does.”

“Can I borrow your mirror?” I
ask.

She takes it off her dressing
table and passes it to me.

I stare at my reflection in it.

Given everything that’s happened
in the past few hours, I hadn’t even thought about how I looked, even though
everyone around me was grey.

But I’m not.

My clothes are grey, yes. But my
skin is normal skin colour, and my eyes are still blue, and yes, my hair is
still brown.

“Is this weird?” I ask Caydi.

“No, it’s
very
weird.”

“Do you know what it means?”

She shrugs. “Not a clue. Didn’t
Mrs Carbonell mention it?”