Part Three: Allison
It was nearly night. The cemetery would be dark soon, but that was fine with me. I liked the dark nights here, when the animals would leave their hiding spots and roam free. It felt more like the Beacon Hills I used to know, when I was still alive.
My name is Allison Argent and I am dead.
It was always good to remind myself of that, just in case. When my friends weren’t here, it was easier for my memories to slip, and I never wanted to forget who I used to be.
It felt like ages since Lydia had visited and planted the marigolds that now surround my gravestone, but I never really knew how much time had passed between moments like that.
Time meant nothing to me, which was the best and the worst thing about being dead.
I heard a rustling, followed by the low rumble of a truck pulling closer. The familiar green truck pulled off of the paved path and sat parked on the grass in front of the line of trees that stood across from grave.
I had seen the truck before. It was the landscapers who took care of the property. A short, husky man I didn’t recognize hopped out of the truck, holding a phone to his ear.
“Okay, all of them?” He asked before he slammed the truck door. He nodded as the person on the other end was likely talking.
“Yeah, I agree. Better safe than sorry. We’ll have them cleared out by next week.”
“This weekend? I have my nephew’s graduation.”
He switched the phone to his other ear and put a hand on his hip.
“Yeah, I understand. I just – yeah, okay,” the man replied. His shoulders slumped as let out a sigh. “I will start cutting them down tomorrow.”
The trees were the only way I could talk to Lydia! She said she could hear my voice when the wind rustled the leaves of the trees. They can’t cut them down!
I need these trees!
The landscaper continued his call and walked back to the truck. He grabbed a canister and spray painted a giant “X” on the tree closest to my grave.
Stop! You can’t do this!
He went to the next tree, clearly unable to hear me. And why would he? Lydia was the only person who could.
Hey, landscape guy! My banshee best friend can only hear me because of these trees! You can’t cut them down!
Shut up, Allison. You sound like an idiot.
Actually, I didn’t sound like anything. Dead girls couldn’t be heard by the living.
Well, except one.
I looked on as the landscaper painted his final “X” on the last tree in the cemetery. It felt like the actual last nail being hammered into my coffin. If nobody could see or hear me – I really would be gone. I needed to do something.
Maybe I could scare him away?
It was a stupid idea, but it was my only idea. I got closer to the landscaper as he walked back to his truck. I had never tried to scare anyone, but if it kept the trees here, it would be worth it.
I cringed at myself as I waved my arms around in front of the landscaper.
Great, Allison. You are officially the worst at this.
Despite Lydia making me watch Ghost a dozen times when I was alive, I had never actually been able to move things in death like they did in the movie. But that wasn’t going to stop me from trying.
I moved myself between him and the door. He reached out to grab the door handle and paused for a moment. He pulled his hand back quickly.
He looked at his palm for a few seconds and shivered.
“Okay, you win,” he said.
Yes! Now go away and never come back!
“Yep, I will start clearing them out tomorrow,” the guy said as he opened the truck door, hopped in and slammed it shut.
I watched the truck back up. It was dark now and as he turned the truck around, his headlights hit the doomed trees, casting giant moving shadows all over the cemetery.
I felt a wave of panic wash over me and for the first time since my death, I was truly afraid.
I will be lost forever now.
That’s when I heard a scream in the distance - one that was all too familiar.
It was Lydia.
(all character rights to Teen Wolf/MTV)