Chapter 3

They sounded like ghostly robots as they spoke together. Their voices weren't loud but they echoed around my mind and distracted the sane part of myself. The wind picked up and it began to whip my hair around my face ferociously. All at once, each door of the terraced houses slammed shut in my face.  

Before anything else could've taken me away from my goal, I rushed ahead to the shop. The bell above the door chimed as I stepped inside and I wasted no time in escaping to the sweet and chocolate aisle. For such a small shop, they had a lot of good stuff. Snatching the off-brand milk chocolate, I followed the white aisles as they led me to the counter. When I was younger, my dad used to allow me to get a pretty pink magazine for my birthday every year. I often wished times were simpler, that I could allow myself to get excited over the little things again. 

My legs that were lit aflame from adrenaline carried me to the till. As I placed my items onto the counter, my hands shook abnormally and it threw me into unease. I waited for the worker to scan my item and when he didn't, I looked up. He seemed young as his shaggy black hair covered his face but his eyes were what caught my attention. Black and empty of emotion or humanity. 

I was paralyzed with shock, it was as if I had been hit by whiplash from feeling so safe and then entirely not. Within my vulnerable state, the possessed cashier threw his arms at me and held a firm grip on my forearms. 

"We need the boy."

"Deshawn?" I spat. 

The man nodded slowly while the pits of his eyes bored into me. 

"T-take him then," I said while trying to pull my arms from his cold grip.

He smiled bitterly. "Only you can give him."

"What the hell even are you? Do you normally harass young girls? Or is that just something you're into?" 

He snapped my arms over the counter unexpectedly with a growl and my body lurched along with it. I gritted my teeth as he leaned in closer. 

His voice was quieter now, more controlled. "I'm the one at the gates. I control who gets in and out after they pass. I keep the balance that is being disrupted by you and your little friend. Death is what they call me. However, I do hope we won't have to see each other again so don't worry about me too much."

"I don't know what you want from me. I didn't summon him if that's what you think. I don't do that voodoo crap," I confessed. His expression fell before a deep sigh escaped from his lips. 

"Sometimes this happens but it's rare. Souls get stuck between this life and the After when there is a chance of them coming back. See, this world is folded and intertwined with a thousand other possibilities. Every time you make a decision, there exists another world within this universe where you hadn't made that decision and then that leads to a whole other living. An example would be, choosing what to have for breakfast. If you decide to have toast, you'll pass the exam that day and in turn, get the job you want in the future. However, if you choose to not have breakfast, that choice could lead to you failing the exam and not getting the job you want. The butterfly effect is a big thing and while several different outcomes can come from a situation, usually, when someone dies, they die in every world they have ever lived or could have lived." Death's face was so close to mine that I felt his hot breath as it fanned against my cheek causing me to scrunch up my nose in disgust.

"When people, like your friend, get stuck between the living and dead it means there was a choice made the night that he died that could have stopped it all. It means that there is a version of your world out there in which he's still alive. Normally, spirits aren't as lucky as Deshawn Cervantes is to have someone like you to help him."

My mind whirled into turmoil and every thought and feeling became unhinged. The thought of butterfly effects and different lives and worlds made my head spin. 

"How the hell am I meant to help him?" I demand, my patience running thin. 

His eyes seemed to glow and a shudder tore through my body. 

"Solve the crime," Death stated. "Figure out who killed him, that'll restore the peace. Maybe you can see what could've been avoided then."

I finally pulled my arms from his grip when it loosened around my wrists. 

"If the damn police can't figure it out, how the hell do you expect me to do it?" 

Death rolled those eyes, so dark you could fall into the depths. "The police don't have the victim himself to help now, do they?"

The tone in his voice, slightly cocky and incredibly frustrating for me, was what got my legs to move. I left the shop with force, slamming the door shut behind me. 

Walking home felt a lot more difficult as my eyes scanned all across the different houses, to the bare trees and rare passing car for Death. The air felt colder, the wind bit at my exposed arms and the soft invasion of rain had begun to trickle from the heavens. A chill ran through my body, it felt like I was being watched. I supposed I was now. 

I looked over my shoulder to see a little girl on her pink bike, racing my way. 

"So do you promise to take the deal, Miss De Vega?" she called out, eyes as black as night. 

"Whatever," I dismissed. "Just stop following me around. Alright?" 

She smirked before her eyes faded back to a warm brown. 

All of that commotion for Deshawn Cervantes? Was he even worth it?