Dione knew it was ridiculous to receive a text from her. She was dead. She had seen it with her own eyes – the car speeding past despite the bright red light and crashing into Diana.

So how was she beginning to read through all the “I miss you” texts? The texts she sent in anger for leaving her behind, the texts she sent in sorrow and reminiscence, the texts she would have never sent if she was alive. How was it possible for Diana, her dead sister, to text her, “Hey Dione!” as if nothing had happened?

Beep Beep Beep Beep

She texted back to stop the annoying beep of the messages, “Who are you?”
“I’m Dia, silly.” ‘Dia’ was the nickname Dione had given her. Nevertheless, Dione replied upset, “No, my sister died.”
“Are you still mad at me for wearing your sweater last week?”
“My sister Diana died last year; today is her death anniversary. Whoever is behind the screen, your ‘joke’ isn’t funny, especially in 2022.”
“Are you serious? It’s 2021 and today is my birthday, not my death day, you idiot.”
Dione’s throat dried. “Give me proof.”

Beep Beep Beep Beep

Diana sent a picture of the movie tickets they had bought the night before, the same tickets that Dione had burned after the funeral. The dates clearly read December 14th, 2021. Reluctantly, Dione sent another text.

“What time is it?”
“It’s 2:50? You’re texting me, can you not read?? Whatever. I’m about to cross the street, come out.”

Dione knew whatever this was, it was unrealistic but a seeping feeling of doubt and “what if’s” tugged at her feet. It had only been a year, and it was her death anniversary, too. She couldn’t help herself from reacting. Immediately calling Diana, she rushed to grab a jacket and put on her shoes with one hand.

Beep Beep Beep Beep

“What do you want?” Dione’s breath hitched, the voice that she had forgotten had returned.
“Don’t cross the street. Wait for me, I’ll go to you.”
“Um… okay?”

Dione could feel the winter air enter her lungs, dry and sharp, as if shredding her throat. Nevertheless, she ran as fast as she could with her untied shoes towards the street.

“Diana!” She cried out to her, out of breath.
There she was. Dione’s deceased sister in front of her, waving with an annoying smile as if nothing was wrong. A ring from Dione’s phone took her out of her daze. 

Beep Beep Beep

It was Diana. “Hey, sis,” she spoke. Dione could finally see her face again and tears streamed like waterfalls, knees clanking against each other like two silver spoons. Then Dione began walking, as if time had stopped: insensitive to her surroundings. She didn’t notice her heartbeat matching the beeps in the background. Neither did she notice the car heading straight towards her.

Beep Beep Beep

Dione was in a dark room, only the heart monitor’s beep could be heard.

“Mom, she’s up! Dione’s up!”

That was Diana’s voice, she could recognize it anywhere.