2
A young woman's furious shout echoed down the street, causing everyone nearby to turn and stare.
They watched as she went from shouting in anger to completely breaking down, squatting on the ground and sobbing uncontrollably.
Some people even took out their phones and started filming.
Luckily, the police station was right nearby, which seemed to put the passersby at ease.
Otherwise, given my unhinged behavior, someone probably would have called an insane asylum.
"Mommy, why is that lady squatting over there and crying?"
A child asked in confusion while looking at me, only to be quickly ushered away by his mother.
This confirmed it. I was the only one who could see Jenna Lowe.
Her body was somewhat transparent, her feet hovering above the ground. She just watched me quietly, a smile on her face.
"Yara Valerius, are you wailing for a funeral? If you don't get a move on, people are going to think you're a total nutjob. You'll be tomorrow's headline!"
'But I *am* mourning,' I thought.
Because Jenna Lowe was already dead.
She had died five years ago on my birthday. She'd said she had just gotten paid and wanted to splurge, so she was going to buy a Black Swan cake and have it delivered by a handsome guy who was over six feet tall.
We never did see the handsome delivery guy. By the time the police called me to identify her body, she'd been hit by a car, her features mangled beyond recognition.
She was still clutching the receipt for the cake order in her hand.
When the officer handed me the receipt, stained dark red with blood, I saw there was a note in the remarks.
"The delivery guy must be super handsome. My sister deserves a feast for the eyes."
I sobbed uncontrollably, cursing Jenna Lowe a hundred times in my head for being such a damn fool.
But seeing her—no, that's not right.
Seeing her ghost again, I was suddenly at a loss for words.
