Prompt: A funeral bell rings for someone who is still alive (happy Saturween hehehe i hope you enjoy!!!)
Ding-dong, ding-dong.
Crystal sits there, fidgeting and restless in the front row, as she focuses on the casket in front of her. "Crystal Choi" carved on the dark chocolate wood where her body sleeps. Diane, who sat in a reserved seat next to her, can hear the shaky breaths. In, out, in, out, in, out--her chest inflating with every breath. The horror in her eyes is evident, and you can see her irises fearfully scanning the room, touching people, looking for anyone who will notice her presence. But the only thing that remains is the cold air her ghost leaves behind.
Crystal was a very sweet child. In fact, her small little town would describe her as a golden child. She had very soft features, from her big doe eyes and her button nose to her round face and chubby cheeks. She had straight A's, was salutatorian, and was a very faithful child of God. She would've gone to a good university if her life hadn't ended so soon. Diane was her best friend. She was valedictorian and was born into a rich family. She had jet-black hair, strong features, and a tall, slim figure. The two were quite different but were attached at the hip.
Diane can't help but look at Crystal in pity. She's so desperate for someone to notice her when she is a worthless spirit. "I am alive, I'm not dead! Someone look at me, acknowledge me, TELL ME I'M NOT DEAD!" Crystal screamed and yelled and pleaded. She sobbed so loudly, the tears pooling in her eyes and falling straight down instead of following the curvature of her now pale, transparent skin--you can tell she doesn't want to believe her time has come. She kept going, kept begging for someone's attention. She screeched at such a high frequency it could break windows and shatter eardrums--and each time, her scream was higher than the last.
But it didn't work. Because she's dead.
The atmosphere got so tense it was uncanny. Diane looked uncomfortable and was shivering from the cold. She looked around, and everyone was unaffected. Her mother and father were crying. Her 10-year-old sister was trying to stay strong for her parents, but she was obviously faltering. All of this happening in the background while Crystal sobbed and scratched at the casket in distress, in hopes of reaching her rotting corpse. Diane almost felt bad. But would she care about Crystal?
No one can hear her. No one can see her. No one can feel her impact either.
But Diane could, as her murderer.
Legend says that she's still in that church, weeping and singing hymns of freedom. "I'm not dead...come free me..." Crystal would repeat. People would hear her cry as they passed by. People theorize that she's in there planning her revenge.
Diane goes by another name, Bella. She now lives in a new city, in an apartment alone, far away from her and Crystal's loved ones. She can still hear her breathing. She still remembers the tempo at which she was panting. In, out, in, out, in, out.
But Crystal still knows.
One day, Bella heard a knock on her door. She perks up, confused, and opens the door to a petite figure with a round face, unhealthy pale skin, and a wretched state. She felt something tighten in her throat. All the color drained from her face, and all that was left was fear.
"Crystal?" She whimpered.
"I'm free."
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