I knew something was wrong the moment nobody showed up to my funeral.

See, most of the time even if your dad hated you and your mom wished she'd never had you, they'd at least pretend to care.

No, they didn't even come.

I just laid in that stupid casket, the sun beaming into my eyes because the stupid priest gave me a GLASS ONE. Weren't funerals supposed to be rainy and sad? What a letdown.

For a couple hours I impatiently tapped my finger on my hand.

Then I got up and looked around. Nobody was there.

Goddammit.

Welp, that was just great.

I sighed heavily and stuck my hands in the pockets of my skirt. Fashion tip: always get skirts with pockets.

Now that upset me a little. Sure, skirts were nice and all, but I would've preferred to be buried in a suit.

Damn, I'd have to tell the priest to respect identities. Even if he did believe in God.

I walked around the graveyard, waving at a couple of dudes with 1980s rockstar hair and shirts that said 'Metallica'.

"Rock on!" I said, and high-fived them.

They smiled and inclined their heads.

Most ghosts aren't very social.

Then he came.

That head of rainbow-dyed hair. Those steel-grey eyes. Shaking hands. Tears. Sniffles. He hunched into himself and walked toward my casket.

Shit.

My body wasn't there. It was with me.

I jogged back to the glass coffin. Then wiggled into it.

Closed my eyes and folded my hands.

I heard crunching. Then his thin, wet voice reached my ears.

"Hey, Lin."

Lin. My heart squeezed at the nickname.

"I'm. . .so sorry."

Sorry? For what?

"Your parents refused to come. Said they didn't have time, nor the care for their son. Well, they said daughter, but you know what I mean."

Gotta love transphobic parents.

More silence.

"I hate them, you know. I never told you, but I hate your parents. And I love you. Already miss you."

He choked off.

I opened my eyes and saw his were closed and his body was racked with sobs.

Okay, I couldn't stand that. That had to change. Right now.

I lifted my hand up and buried my fingers in his hair. So cloud-like.

He looked up, startled.

"Lin---Linia?!"

I grinned. "Hey, Cory."

He stared at me in shock. "Wha. . .You're not dead?"

I sat up best I could in that cramped coffin. "Well, yes and no. I am dead, but I still have a somewhat physical form. So basically, I don't need air nor sleep nor food. Probably, I'm free from a bunch of other stuff, too."

He hugged me, burying his face in my neck.

I giggled 'cause it tickled. Nerves were one thing I still had, unfortunately.

He sobbed and I could feel his body shake.

"It's alright dude. I'm here."

"Thank god."

It was difficult to make out through the thickness in his voice, but in the end, I got it.

I patted his back. "Can I get out of this stupid glass confinement, now?"

He laughed. "Yes."

I climbed out of it and ruffled my hair. "Gotta get this cut again."

"Can ghosts get their hair cut?" Cory asked, wiping his eyes and nose with his sleeve.

I shrugged. "I'm a new ghost, so I don't know. But I absolutely have to get different clothes. These bother me so much."

He looked at the stupid black skirt and nodded. "I've got clothes at my place. C'mon."

I slipped my hand into his and we walked back to his house, hand-in-hand.

When we arrived at Cory's house there was a tall person standing outside the door.

They wore a cloak, and from what I could tell those same combat boots that William, my classmate, would wear all the time.

"Linia, why'd you have to die?" they mumbled under their breath.

"William?" I said.

His head jerked up. "Linia? But how you're. . .Dead."

Then a DRAGON flew down and ate us allllllllllllllllllllllllllll!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!