October 31st.

Renee

8:15am.

The annoying beeping of my alarm clock awoke me from the delicious dream I was having. I groaned and rolled out of bed, shutting the alarm up as I went. I went to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror.

“Blerg” I said, sticking my tongue out at myself. I looked like death. I was pale as hell, and had bags under my bloodshot blue eyes. My long jet-black hair looked like there were birds nesting in it.

I jumped in the shower, and jumped straight back out when I realised how cold the water was. Weird. I turned it up to full and watched the steam rise from the water. But every time I tried to get in, the water was like ice stabbing at my skin. What the hell was going on?

I decided to skip the shower and got dressed, in my uniform. I pulled my hair up into a ponytail without bothering to brush it, and tied a red ribbon around it.

I applied a bit of makeup, foundation to make me look less pale, concealer to hide the bags under my eyes and also the pimples that had appeared without warning. Black eyeliner and lashings of mascara also helped with the eye thing. I pinched my cheeks and went back to my room.

It was weird, usually by now there was at least one of my brothers or sisters banging on the bathroom door. Let me explain a bit about my family.

James, or Jamie as we all call him, is my oldest brother at 17 and in year 13. He plays guitar and lead vocals in the best school rock band, Half Past Life. My boyfriend Liam Oliver is also in the band, he plays bass and backup vocals. Jamie loves music, it’s his passion. His voice is amazing, he sounds like a hell of a lot like Kurt Cobain. He was born a blonde like everyone in the family, but like me he dyed it jet black a few years ago. He usually wears it messy as hell. He has brown eyes and 3 piercings, one in his eyebrow, one in his bottom lip, and one in his tongue. It suits him well. He takes out his tongue stud to sing though, otherwise he gets a lisp.

Rory is my next brother, 16 and year 12. He also cranked out the hair dye, except instead of black like me and Jamie, he went for brown. His hair is in a faux-hawk, except it develops into a spiky mullet at the bottom. His eyes are blue, exactly the same shade as mine. He plays lots of sports, from basketball to cricket, from surfing to skate-boarding to snowboarding. He goes for runs everyday and uses the gym a lot, so he has a pretty good physique, and he’s tan and tall. My friends all go crazy over my older brothers, especially in summer when Rory wanders around shirtless. Rory is my best friend. Does that seem weird to you, having my brother as my best mate? Not to me. We just have a kind of bond.

Next in the line is me at 15. My name is Renee. What can I tell you about me? You already know about my black hair and blue eyes. I’m pretty tall, 5”8. I get involved in the cultural aspect of the school, I’m in major production, the choir, drama, the performing arts group, and I do a lot of singing at various things. I got about 4 awards at the cultural awards last year, including the year 10 cup, awarded to the most valuable year 10 cultural student. I’m pretty popular through the school; I get along with pretty much everyone. I’d love to act professionally one day, but I can’t see that happening realistically. I’m going to try my hardest though.

Brianna is a year younger than me, 14 and in year 10. Bree kept her natural straight light-blonde hair, and her big brown eyes give her the princess look. She is the most artistic of us all. I can’t even draw a stick figure, and Bree can give it life. She’s a good writer and poet too. She’s the kind of person parents love straight off the bat, which works well for her, because she can deceive and manipulate whoever she wants. Rory hates how she does this, and they have a major personality clash. But even so, they look out for each other. I love annoying Bree, but when it comes down to it she’s always there for me and me for her.

Mitchell is the second youngest at 13. He looks like a miniature version of Dad, blonde, brown eyed, tall and lanky. Mitch is the smartest of us all; he can do my maths homework in 10 minutes, whereas it takes me an hour. He already knows that he wants to be a lawyer, just like Dad. He is a computer whiz, and is in the school technical group, which is made up of mostly seniors.

Shannon is the youngest. She is 11; it’s her 12th birthday on Sunday. Its weird, we were all born close to exactly a year apart. Jamie’s birthday is the 3rd of September. Rory’s is the 16th of October. Mine is the 27thth of September. Bree’s is the 1st of October; Mitch is the 15th of Oct, the day before Rory. And Shanny’s is the 4th of November.

Shan looks like a miniature Bree, although she has a much sweeter nature. What you see is what you get with her. She’s shy at first, but once she knows and trusts you, it’s hard to get her to shut up. When the chips are down she’s always the one motivating us. She also seems to have a 6th sense when it comes to problems, she can always tell if something’s wrong, and she’s a great listener. We are all protective of her, because she’s the youngest.

Mum and Dad separated years ago. Their marriage just fell apart, but they managed to remain friends, mostly for our sakes I think.

Dad remarried last year, his new wife Louise has 3 kids herself from her first marriage, Anna, Claire and Brenton. Anna is Jamie’s age, Claire is Rory’s, and Brenton is Bree’s. They are all well-mannered and quiet and controlled – the complete opposite of us. We get along alright though.

Mum had Jamie when she was 21, and I think is cool that her and Dad loved each other enough to have 5 more kids. They just grew apart, but I’m glad they are still friends.

The sound of a door slamming down the hall snapped me out of my daydream. I glanced at the clock. Shit!! It was 8:45. School starts in 5 minutes. I grabbed my backpack and ran down the hall, passing Rory on my way. I only got a quick glimpse of him as I ran past, but he looked worse than I did, the bags under his eyes were enough for a two week holiday. He was standing listening to the messages on the machine.

“Hurry up Rore, your gonna be even later than me!” I said. He ignored me completely. Deciding there wasn’t enough time to grab breakfast, I skidded past the dining room and out the front door. I pretty much ran all the way to school, and arrived 10 minutes late.

I stopped just inside the front door of the school and pulled out my timetable. Great, double history on the 4th floor. I rolled my eyes and made my way up there. When I finally arrived, the class was empty and there was a note on the whiteboard. ‘11HISB to AUD’

This was turning out to be a bad day. The auditorium was at the other end of the school. I didn’t have time to stop and wonder why we had to go to the Auditorium, I just ran there as fast as I could. I arrived just as Ms. Singer, our principal, took the stage.

“Hey, Mr. Taylor” I said to my form teacher, who was standing at the door. He ignored me completely. He looked like he’d been crying. Actually, so did most of the teachers that were scattered around. What was going on? I slid into an available seat, right in the back row. Ms. Singer stepped up to the microphone.

“I’m guessing you are all wondering why we have called you in here this morning. It’s my unfortunate duty to inform you …” she paused here and wiped her eyes, then continued. Her voice shook as she said “two of our students have been killed.” Oh my god. No wonder she was crying. Whispers broke out everywhere. The question on everyone’s minds was “who is it?”

Ms. Singer held up a hand for silence.

“The students are Renee Murphy and Dean McGregor. Renee was one of our most valued…” Her words were drowned as the noise from the crowd of students got considerably louder. I was in complete shock, and then I burst out laughing.

What a joke! I was sitting right here! How the hell could they all fall for that? I decided to sneak into the wings and pop out yelling “Surprise!!” This was a really sick joke. I wondered where my brothers and sisters were sitting. Surely they were confused, like I was. I snuck into the wings.

“Gooooooooooood morning people!” I yelled as loud as I could. No-one stopped, no-one turned around. No-one even looked at me. I decided I needed more drastic measures.

I stepped up to the microphone and yelled through it, as loud as I could. Still no-one even looked in my direction. I could see my group of best friends sitting about 5 rows back from the front. Every single one of them was in tears. Most of the people in the auditorium were crying.

I blinked. How could they all sit there crying and thinking I was dead, when I was right here yelling at them? I looked at Ms. Singer, who was standing about a metre away from me. She was surveying the crowds of students, in tears herself. She turned and looked directly at me. Her face showed no recognition. It was like she was looking through me.

Why could they not see that I was right here? This was too weird. I jumped off the stage and ran out the doors, and ran all the way home.

The first thing I saw when I got home was Dad’s car in the driveway. This wasn’t too unusual, but it was weird for a Wednesday morning. I let myself in, slamming the door as hard as I could. I could see the entire family in the lounge.

Nobody even looked up at the door slam. Mum was sitting on the black leather two seater, Dad beside her with his arm around her. She was bawling into his shoulder, he was comforting her and quietly crying to himself.

Jamie was sitting beside Shannon on the other long couch. Shanny was crying, Jamie was chewing on his lip stud, which I know he only does when he is really upset.

Mitch was sitting on the floor in front of them, leaning his head back on Shanny’s knees. He had his eyes closed.

The thing that really got to me was Bree and Rory. They were sitting on the pile of beanbags. Upon closer inspection, I realised Rory was sitting on my hot pink one. His eyes were bloodshot, puffy and red. Bree was lying on the one beside him, and they were crying together, Bree’s head on his knee.

That image is what convinced me that this was real, not some sick joke someone had concocted to scare me. I can see everybody, but nobody can see me.

It explained everything, the shower this morning, why I looked so bad when I woke up, assembly this morning…the pieces fell into place like a puzzle.

I had woken up dead.