Death of a Kleptomaniac by Kristen Tracy

Author:Kristen Tracy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction - Young Adult
Publisher: Disney Book Group

I am standing next to Henry Shaw. He’s curled up on his bed. Soft music flows out of his speakers. It sounds like jazz, but I have no idea who is playing. If I were alive, I could ask him. If I were alive, I could say something funny and cheer him up. If I were alive, Henry wouldn’t be sad in the first place.

I’m surprised that his grief would be strong enough to pull me to him. When I died, I wasn’t thinking about him at all. Only my parents crossed my mind. I lean down and whisper his name. “Henry?” Because of the Melka situation, because of how things ended between us, I never expected to return to his bedroom. Ever.

“Henry?” I repeat. Even though I know he can’t hear me, I feel a strong urge to say his name. And when I do, it makes me feel more connected to him. I move onto the bed. Louise told me that my presence can ease a person’s sadness. I press my soul around Henry’s body. Can he feel that I’m here? I stay very quiet, very still, as I watch him breathing. My parents didn’t seem as affected by my presence, but for Henry my arrival seems to stir something in him. He turns around and faces in the opposite direction; he faces me.

“I can’t believe you’re dead. How could you die like that?”

I watch him cry. His eyes are swollen and his face is red with sadness. He’s looking right at me, but he doesn’t know it.

“You were right here. A few days ago. In this room. And you go on one date with Tate Arnold and you wind up dead? Jesus. Why did you even go out with that guy? He’s a stupid jock, Molly. He could never appreciate you. He had no idea how funny you are.” He starts crying again. “How funny you were.” His voice gets louder. “This wasn’t supposed to happen!”

Henry is breaking my heart. I felt bad enough about being dead before I got here. But seeing this makes me feel sad in a different way. I’m beginning to understand that I didn’t just lose what I had, but I also lost what could have happened. My future. All the paths that were ahead of me. They are as dead as I am.

Out of an impulse to comfort him, I start saying anything that comes to mind. “You’re going to be fine. You have a long life. I can see it.” I have no idea how long Henry Shaw will live. “You’ll fall in love. Get married. Have babies. Lots of babies. And there’s a ton of jazz.” I’m struggling for ideas. “You will become so famous that you will travel by private jet.”

Do saxophone players ever get famous? I’m not sure. All I know is that my words do nothing to comfort him. I can feel his sadness, and it’s as deep as my parents’. This confuses me. He picked another girl over me.

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