Afterlife Academy Read Online Free

bridge have disappeared. All the cars and houses have gone. Maybe
we have gone back in time. Maybe we’ve somehow ended up in 1949, before this
woman died. Before everything was developed and modern. There wouldn’t have
been cars and houses in those days.
    I perch on the edge of my seat
and wait for her to say something.
    “Okay,” she says eventually.
“This is always the hard part. What’s the last thing you two remember?”
    “We were in a car accident,”
Anthony says. “Her and her idiot boyfriend were joyriding and they hit me.”
    “I remember impact,” I say. “A
huge bang. And blood. There was a lot of blood. His blood though, not mine.”
    “Now then, I don’t want you to
freak out and get upset about this, but that car accident was more serious than
you might think. There were two fatalities. I’m afraid they were you two.”
    “No,” I say. “No. I don’t know
how Wade has pulled this off, but this is all some kind of really sick joke and
I am not giving him the satisfaction of falling for it.”
    “So, where are we?” Anthony
asks, ignoring me.
    “Didn’t you hear me?” I yell.
“This is a joke. You’re just making yourself look stupid by buying into it.
Where’s the hidden camera?” I’m on my feet again, looking around the room
frantically. “You’re dumped, Wade. Wherever you are, I know you’re watching
this, and you’re totally dumped.”
    “Riley, please sit down.” Eliza
Carbonell interrupts my tirade. “This is not a joke. A lot of people have
difficulty adjusting at first, and I completely understand that, but you do
need to sit down and listen to me.”
    “This is ridiculous,” I mutter,
but I reluctantly sit back down anyway.
    “Where are we?” Anthony asks
again.
    “This place is called Afterlife
Academy,” she says. “It’s a place for teenagers who pass away before they can
finish their education.”
    “Are you kidding me?” I ask
incredulously. “We’re in a school for the dead? How come it looks exactly like
our school?”
     “Afterlife Academy was started
up by government officials in 1950,” Eliza continues. “They asked me to oversee
it. As this was the school I worked in when I was alive, they used it as a
blueprint when creating this one. You two are a rare kind indeed. Most
teenagers who arrive here do not come from this school. You’re just lucky
because you happen to have been attending our living counterpart in your lives,
so you’re already familiar with the layout here.”
    “So you are dead?” Anthony asks like it is nothing strange.
    “Indeed I am,” she says with a
sad look in her grey eyes. “In 1949 a fire broke out in this building. Most
people got out unharmed, but just as I was leaving I realised there was a young
first-year boy stuck on the second floor. As headmistress, it was my
responsibility and I rushed back in to save him. Which, I’m glad to say, I did.
But the building collapsed before I could get out myself, and there you have
it. Do they really have a plaque in my memory?”
    Anthony nods. “You were deemed a
hero.”
    “That’s very flattering,” she
says, swiping at her eyes like she’s about to start crying.
    “Am I the only one aware of how
surreal this conversation is?” I ask.
    “Well, we must get back on
topic,” Eliza says as she visibly composes herself. “As I said, I know it’s
hard to adjust, but you both died in that accident. I don’t believe in
pussyfooting around it. Directness is the best way to deal with these things,
and believe me I’ve had a lot of experience in the years I’ve been here. We
offer counselling sessions to help you come to terms with your grief.”
    “So there are other people
here?” I ask.
    “Oh yes,” she says. “I believe
you met Gerald earlier, he is one of our prefects. There are roughly five
hundred pupils here at the moment.”
    “Dead people?”
    “Yes, Riley, dead people. Just
like you and me.”
    “You’re trying to tell me that
I’m a