361 Chapter 149: Foretaste

I just remembered that I hate my life.

I have to go through the whole alphabet when I just want A, B, and C. I didn't ask for Z. I recalled something I didn't want. But I'm Cedrica A. McCoy but mama's last name is Harper, and she changed it. I don't know my daddy.

Wait, somebody told me... it was Chauncey. I look at the body and Torielle's face is gone. I'm not a ball of light and I can move. I just can't get pass the fact, I saw Tori...

I finally find an exit, I go through the gate and grass is greener on the other side. I see mountains pass here and more balls of light flying high over above ground. A lighting bug lands on my shoulders.

Two seconds of peace before it flies away. Without me doing anything, I'm a ball again and go up this dirt road, pass a patch of flowers and turn pass a sign Philemon Heights. Philemon Heights goes down, am I on an incline of a mountain?

It takes a while to reach the bottom and I take right turn and follow the side of the mountain. I have no idea where I'm going.

I see balloon at the end of the road and another path with a tent or two ahead. It's a small town with a marry go round. Souls wander and though everybody is a ball of light. I hear the chattering and the laughter of children.

"Hey!" a pink soul approaches me. "I'm Margherita Ann or just call me Ann. You new?"

"Um, I'm Cedrica."

"Cool. I'm Margherita." she floats pass me. What the fuck was that? Oh!

I chase after her and stop in front blocking the way. "Do you know how to get out of here?"

"It took me a while too. But we are dead." says Margherita. "Do you mean a body?"

"What?"

"Listen, because I had to find out too. You a vampire, right? Well vampires are dead people, sometimes fresh, and the soul makes it back; making a vampire. When the soul leaves the vampire, it becomes a zombie. You a body but no soul and a soul without a body is a ghost. BUT, we can get a body, but it has to be ours. You understand?" her soul tilts.

"Well... where my body?"

"Find the witch, her name is Cortisha Pierce."

"Cortisha?" Oh, my lands. "Yes, the ghetto bitch down the lane. It's an abandoned apartment, her room is 301. She googles.

"Googles?"

"She does searches on the living for people. You can get a body from there."

"Cortisha?"

"Yep. Bye." she floats pass me. Cortisha...

I go down the lane passing a few homes, a saloon, an space with a theater and come to an apartment with a hole in the side and the roof half gone.

"Fltch Wis apartments..." maybe the words are cut off. No, it's Fletcher Lewis. It's on the side of the building. I hover inside and come to the front desk with a soul on two legs leaning against the wall. "Hey." calls the man. "You on drugs?"

"No..." Blood related... and mollies...

"Let me tell you about tis buildin' right here." his words are slurred. "Tis be fletcheh lewis apartment. Way back in de day, some coon ass nigga shot everybody in here."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"Who was he?"

"Me." Oh my God. "I did it." Ok..."My name is James Murray."

"Why did you shoot people?"

"Noisy ass people."

"Nosey?"

"No! NOISE!"

"Oh..."

"Who you looking for?" he digs his tongue in cheek. "Um, a body from Cortisha?"

"Third floor and tell that bitch I hate her." he says. "Ok..." I murmur. I take the stairs up to the third floor.

I wish I was back at the motel. What about fucking Samhill? Where is my head?

Making it to the third floor, I see a door down the hall that's wide open. I pass an apartment with a couple yelling.

"I fucking hate yo ass! You don't do anything for me! You sit at the crib and be on the phone all day!"

"You don't wear a bra!"

"I'm a man! You wear a skirt!"

"This my mama skirt! You know my mama dead!"

"Fuck that bitch! Fuck that bitch for giving birth to yo lazy fucking ass!"

"My mother was a chritian!"

My, my.... is it two niggas arguing? I go to the open door and peer inside to see a black woman with a belly and 3d glasses on. "What you want?" she waves sage in the room. Behind her is a large computer with sticky notes on the side. "Are you Cortisha Pierce?"

"Yes I am."

"I need a body."

"Ok," she takes a weed blunt out her shorts and lights it with what I'm assuming is magic." What's ya name?"

"Cedrica Alexis McCoy. I also go by Alexis Bumigida Kelly."

Cortisha goes to the computer. "You in a rush?"

"Um... no---how does this work?" Her apartment has a dozen torn up newspaper articles on the floor, black art representing jazz music, slavery, and the ghetto. "I look you on google because most people show up on google. But you want yo previous body?" she asks. "Yes."

"When did you die?"

"Um... I don't know..."

"You don't know," she swivels in the chair. "Well... I got your name, which is--just give me one."

"Cedrica Alexis McCoy."

"Ok." she starts typing away and Google really shows up. She scrolls down, goes to the next page. Clicks on images, scrolls down pictures of people and objects that aren't me. "You Canadian?" she looks back. "Yes..." this is awkward. "Address?"

I shrug, "I don't know."

"Hold on..." she scrolls and clicks a funereal photo. She opens a new tab. "Do you have a Facebook?

"Do you need my IP address?" I question.

"You go to somebody else for that."

"Who?"

"Ken." she says. "I'm seeing a police record for you."

"I don't drive by the way."

"Did you assault somebody at the club?"

"I..." I look at the wall. Oh shit... "I did..."