Spirit Blues

"It's a terrible feeling, isn't it?" said Rosa's dad. Rosa nodded her head. Her dad sighed. "It will pass, my dear, it will pass."

Ten years later.

The girl, young woman rather, dressed crisp and casual, walked in through the jingling door of the cafe. She was wearing a T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers, all pressed and ironed, as to not leave a single wrinkle. She walked in inconspicuously, ordered a medium latte and an everything bagel, and sat down. That routine had been repeated meticulously every single day, without fail. Whether it was rain, hail, or sleet, she was always there at 9:00 AM. What she didn't realize, however, was an invisible spirit sitting next to her, tapping on her shoulder, doing everything she could to get her attention. They were the exact same. The hair, the face, the purple-rimmed glasses. People would easily take them for twins, but this was different.

No one could hear her, and she knew what was going to happen. All she could do was sit back and watch, crying, as the man with the gun entered the store.

"Everyone here, give me your purses and wallets, and no one has to get hurt. Line up here, right now. If one of you try to call the police, you're off to the next world." The spirit nodded glumly. He wasn't bluffing, but the woman thought he was. One by one, all the patrons of the cafe gave him all their wallets.until the woman. "Hand it over, missy." The woman smiled wryly. "I didn't know people said that anymore." The thief's expression went from a smug smile to a tight-lipped, forced one. "Hand your purse over before you get hurt." The woman laughed at the gun pointed toward her. "Who do you think you are? Al Capone?" The burglar now had the pistol trained on her face, and his finger was white on the trigger. The spirit meantime had closed her eyes and was praying for it to be all over. She knew what the next words would be, and began to mouth them. "I bet that's not even a real gun. You don't have the guts to shoot, do you?" "Oh, you bet I will." The trigger tightened. It was a second away. "Duck. Duck!" muttered the spirit. The woman didn't duck. The trigger tightened.then released. It was a clean shot. The spirit buried her head in her arms.

"Death.again." She watched as it all played out before her, the way it had a thousand times before. The sirens of the police. The body slowly bleeding out. Her last wishes to her family. The mourning family in the house. There had been so many ways to prevent this from happening. So many ways.but her teenage, impulsive self had gotten herself killed.and for absolutely nothing. Her life had meant absolutely nothing. She felt herself shifting, and…

Rosa woke up in a sweaty heap.

She didn't even know ghosts could sweat, at least, not before coming here. The Spirit Realm. She had always thought that this place would have more…mystique, but no. Instead, when you died, instead of singing birds, glory, and light, you got a cross between a UPS warehouse and an airport terminal where the lines were really, really, really long. Rosa had been lucky to get in as a minor. Well, really unlucky, actually, to die as a minor, but at least she got a line skip in the Spirit Realm, which was huge, if that was any consolation. The actual Spirit Realm wasn't much impressive either, unless you were a hero or were really successful, in which case, congrats! You got a mansion, or some house of your choosing. Rosa technically counted as a hero, for technically saving those people in the cafe, but still got a basic condo (with a few perks.)