Wicked Games of a Grim Reaper

Chapter 1 - One of a Kind

I remember reading somewhere on the internet that when asked which superpower they would prefer to have – ability to fly or invisibility – most people chose flying. And I'm just sitting there and thinking: "Well I don't need to answer that because I already have the power of invisibility." Right about now, you might be thinking you stumbled on another one of those supernatural teen dramas, not that there's anything wrong with those. Don't worry, that's not the case. Unfortunately, I wasn't talking about a real superpower, just complete social invisibility. Navigating the school halls filled with intricate teen relationships from which tons of drama was born every day is difficult for any person that has ever went to high school. That's why I, Lyla Turner, decided to take the easiest way to slide through high school as painlessly as possible – do absolutely nothing to stand out in any way. I never raised my hand, I wasn't completely antisocial but avoided making deep connections in the first place, had good but not exceptional grades, didn't partake in any of the extravagant school activities such as cheerleading or drama club, but rather enjoyed my extracurricular time in a quiet lab. Even my prom dress was just a plain, little black dress. When the lights were dimmed I just blended with my surroundings like an accidental ninja. Honestly, the most outstanding thing about me was my best friend, Cameron Armstrong. Me and Cam were inseparable since birth because our mothers met on a Lamaze class and bonded over the shared pregnancy suffering. However, unlike me who was a ghost haunting the school due to compulsory education, he was very much standing out. He was sort of the school's designated, pride flag-wearing jester. Both mine and Cam's parents wanted us to have a better start in life, so they decided to enroll us in one of the better high schools in New Orleans which was, of course, filled with rich, pompous jerks. And due to Cam being out of the closet since junior high, he was an easy target for all the bullies. His very loud and cheeky personality trickled with an unhealthy amount of sarcasm definitely didn't help him in life. And by extent, it really didn't help me in avoiding attention either.

"Honestly, Cam, did you really have to answer that jerk?", I sighed as I collected my stuff from my locker, getting ready to go home.

"Come on, Lyla, it was his own damn fault for being homophobic.", Cam complained as he sucked a lollipop way too loudly next to me.

"Yeah, well, I don't think this particular comment really was homophobic. He's just a jerk who's not worthy of wasting words. You should have just ignored him when he told you to choke on your lollipop, instead of telling him that he's just jealous of the lollipop and was imagining his dick in its place. Was the vulgarity really needed?"

"Oh, whatever, we'll never see these people again in just a few days, so who cares?"

Cam was right, this hell was soon about to be over. In just a few days the school was over, and we would all go our separate ways. Not that I had a particularly bad time in high school, but I was more than ready to move onto new things. I was hoping that I would finally find my place in collage. A place where I could be myself without having to fear of standing out. Somewhere I could be free.

After we collected Cam's stuff from his locker, we left school. We hopped in Cam's painstakingly cleaned and repaired Volvo old-timer and drove to my family business. 'Family business' sounds so fancy and so misleading. No, my family didn't own a super famous company that was situated in one of those breathtaking, glass skyscrapers in the city center. My family went in the whole other direction. We lead a funeral home. Yes, I grew up being surrounded by shiny, wooden caskets and distressed, weeping families of the deceased. No wonder I grew up being so effed up, even more than the rest of my generation. However, since the funeral home was very quiet most of the time, it was Cam's and mine designated hangout spot.

"Do you really think that last comment was uncalled for?", Cam's guilty conscience surfaced as he lied down and got comfortable in the biggest casket we had on display.

"A bit maybe. Don't get me wrong, it was hilarious to see his confused, surprised face, but, yeah, it was a bit too much.", I answered him as I sat down on his legs and got comfy myself.

"I suppose. But it's all because I became so defensive due to years of their bullshit abuse. It's like when the dog barks because he's scared."

"Damn, dude, you really did a good job of self-analyzing. You don't even need a therapist."

"Ha! Honey, this is just scratching the surface. I'd find a therapist, trust me, but I'm too broke for that. Part time jobs don't pay as much as they used to."

"Yeah, maybe you would have more money if you didn't spend it all on those stupid protein powders, Arm-strong. Just because you're drinking those, doesn't mean you'll miraculously grow muscles. You need to hit the gym a few times too."

"Shut up. Don't give me science lessons, Miss Big-brain Scientist. And seriously, stop teasing me about my surname. It's really getting old now. Plus, you're just jealous me and Billie Joe Armstrong share the same last name."

"Ah!", I grabbed myself by the chest teasingly, "You got me. I'm so jealous. As if! Just because you share the same surname, doesn't mean you're nearly as cool as him."

"Jealousy!", Cam joked, singing in a very high-pitched voice.

I just pinched Cam's leg in protest and giggled a bit. He yelped out dramatically after which he started laughing as well. When we got all the giggles out of our system, we sighed out loudly in union.

"God! Can't believe we're already college students.", Cam commented as he stared blankly at the ceiling.

"Technically, not yet. But I get what you mean. And who would have thought Cameron Armstrong chose architecture! I sure didn't.", I joked around.

"Shu~t up! I just chose something that genuinely intrigues me. Plus, it's a pretty stable and good paying job unlike my mom's occasional photography gig."

"Yeah, yeah, Mr. Big-shot Architect."

"Plus, like you're the one to talk. Being surrounded by dead people all your life wasn't enough for you, so you decided to study anthropology. But unlike your parents you'll be digging them out instead of burring them up."

"Oh my God, you're so morbid! Plus, I chose anthropology exactly because I was surrounded by death my whole life. There were many times when people were forced to bury their loved ones without even knowing what happened to them. Instead of just putting them into shinny coffins like my folks, I want to help find out the truth. That's why I want to focus on forensic anthropology. Plus, bones are so beautiful in my opinion."

Cam raised his head from a comfy, casket pillow to look at me in confusion and slight disgust.

"And this is where I exit the conversation.", he said as he laid his head back down.

We continued to sit and chill in the casket display room, contemplating the on-coming big change in our carefree lives. We didn't even think that the courses we chose were the least of our problems that were awaiting for us in our new university life.