It's Like Cluedo, But Real.

Chapter Three

150815 - Chapter Three

One of the positive aspects of being a ghost is although you can see people, people can't see you.

I'd followed the coroners back to the morgue, after the police had thoroughly checked the surrounding area for clues and found only a pair of old, mud caked gloves half buried in the soil ten feet away from the victim, assumed to be discarded by the killer.

"From the rate at which the body has decomposed I would suggest the death was approximately 4 years ago. The sex is female, and she must have been in her mid-twenties judging by the state of her teeth. The cause of death appears to be a blow to the back of the head, probably pushed from in front and the force of impact made the indent in her skull."

"Isn't this...?" Apart from me, there were only two others in the room. One, was the medical examiner, who was scrutinizing the neck and trying to ignore the other character in the room, a tall, thin police officer with graying hair and round spectacles that made me think of Harry Potter.

The medical examiner, the complete opposite to the police officer, small and stout, with a balding head and a greasy forehead, apparently had thought it useless to ignore the officer and wiped his brow with a small cloth from a silver tray on a little metal trolley beside the tank the bones were placed in to soak.

"From the age and the year of death, I would have to say it would link with the case of Ms. Bennett, yes. We have few disappearances in this town." The small examiner spoke in a jittery, high voice.

Although I wasn't exactly the Nancy Drew of Sidmore, I knew what he was talking about. Save the occasional expulsion for teens with recreational drugs, and drink driving, serious crimes were uncommon; and kidnappings, disappearances and suspected murders were so uncommon that even though police tried not to publicize them, the word spread around Sidmore like wildfire, as secrets and scandals often do in small, rural towns.

"We'll obviously have to formulate other links to Hazel Bennett, but assuming this was her we can start looking into the case immediately. For now, I'll bid you goodbye, Brown." The officer said in a weary tone, and nodded towards the examiner, Brown. I'd been holding my breath.

Only an hour earlier I'd been talking to a ghost called Hazel, and I was pretty sure that there wouldn't be a wide selection of dead people who had been killed 4 years ago and all had the same name. Though she'd kind of freaked me out, I hoped with a newfound empathy that this helped her unlock her own door to the afterlife. But considering they hadn't even confirmed that the body was hers, let alone find her killer, it was doubtful that she would be sent to heaven (or wherever the dead go) straight away.

"I'll let you know if I find anything new, Parsons." Brown finalized and bid his colleague farewell and turned back to his work.

As Parsons - I figured this was the policeman's name - (I could rival Sherlock Holmes with my deduction skills, I know) left the morgue, I quickly floated through the narrow gap in the door before it closed. I thought it would be better to go with Parsons than wait and let Brown know of a paranormal being in his workplace by opening the door again by myself.

Parsons, once out of the morgue, breathed in deeply, as if clearing the smell of death and disinfectant from his lungs; which was perfectly understandable. I floated in front of him and waved out of pure boredom and a hint of curiosity.

But nothing. He didn't even blink, which was a little weird to say the least, and then he proceeded to walk straight through me. I shivered. People often talk about stepping over one's grave, but no one ever considers the other perspective. It was like getting pinpricks all over my body in the space of a couple of seconds and made me shiver out of reflex.

"Watch where you're going, mate!" I muttered instantaneously; almost immediately feeling like a complete idiot because, of course, he couldn't. I was invisible, inaudible, and very much dead.

I sighed, massaging my temples before following Parsons into his police car, as I figured it wouldn't hurt to see what they were going to do about Hazel's case.

Before I went home I did a little bit of 'shopping' around various supermarkets in the town centre. Picking up an apple, or a couple of cashews here and there. It was around 2:00PM; which meant that everywhere was quite quiet. It also meant that no one was around to notice a packet of Salt and Vinegar Walkers floating in mid-air in the middle of ASDA.

"So how have Aubrey and Tyler been? Last time we talked, I think Aubrey had just moved up to high school last talked!" A voice exclaimed from a couple of isles away from where I was floating.

I decided to go over and see who was talking. Which I'd do anyway.

In the middle of the Dairy and Cooled Meats section was my mother and an old co-worker of hers. From the looks of things they were catching up on old times, though I could see dark bags under her eyes that may have been caused by my sudden physical disappearance.

"They're... They're fine." My mom said after some hesitation and produced a small reassuring smile, for the friend or herself was questionable. "Tyler is starting school next year."

"Oh, how wonderful! My boys are in their second year of primary school; and I'm always being told how energetic they are!"

I decided it was a good point in the conversation to leave. With a small cartoon of orange juice in hand (I figured it could be an anonymous apology for shocking my little brothers' tiny football socks off) I envisioned the semi-detached home I'd lived in for the entirety of my short life, and dissolved.

Not much later after I'd materialized outside my house did I see Dylan sitting by my front porch, evidently lying in wait for me. I saw him look up, and immediately as if my presence was accompanied with an overwhelming feeling of depression, his face contorted into a scowl.

I know. Rude.

"Hey, new guy! Did you have any epiphanies while you were having your little strop? Was it Reverend Green or Miss Scarlet or are you still working out if the murder weapon was a Revolver or a Lead Pipe?" Did I mention that my family play Cluedo every year at Christmas? Which kind of explained a lot in terms of how much I know about Cluedo.

"Don't push it," Dylan growled, "I just thought you'd want to see what happens when a ghost is accepted into the afterlife."

Uh... Yeah. I know this is kind of short but I haven't written (on Wattpad) for a while and I've read way too many books in the space of a couple of days; so I took a break from reading The Return of Sherlock Holmes and thought: Blow it, I'll write something!

=^.^=