The Dress

It took Joe Thompson three long days to choose the dress to bury his wife in.

Francine herself had chosen a rose colored chiffon dress from her closet, a closet that overflowed with dozens of beautiful dresses of every color, pattern, fabric, and style, though usually only the most expensive.

Joe knew Francine's choice, he knew her favorite colors and styles, he knew which of the dresses suited her and which didn't, he knew the dress the children wanted their mother to be buried in, but Joe did not choose any of those dresses.

Instead, he chose the dress he found hidden at the back of her closet. It was old and worn, but uniquely different. It was expensive, just like the others; and although it was old, its beauty shone through as Joe laid it gently on the bed. He had never seen it before and wondered why Francine had never shown it to him before. It was beautiful.

Joe's head jerked up as his youngest daughter, Katie came into the room and stood shyly in the doorway.

"Honey, what are you doing? Go downstairs and wait for Daddy there," he spoke authoritatively, before seeing the tears in her eyes. He immediately left the dress where it was and went to her, kneeling down and scooping her in his arms.

"What's wrong?" Joe asked, brushing away the tear that was making its way down her cheek.

"There are some men in suits in the...in the..." she hiccupped and continued, "In the living room. They're being mean to Robbie." Her eyes widened in fear as she referred to Joe's oldest son. Joe's brows furrowed and he stood up, Katie in his arms. Looking at the dress for a moment, he turned and made his way into the living room.

"Excuse me? Can I help you?" Joe addressed the two men who were standing in the room, one with his hand placed menacingly on Robbie's shoulder.

"Are you Joe Thompson?" one of the men asked, the question echoing eerily around the room.

"I am."

"We think you may have a few items in your possession that belong to us. More specifically, a dress," the bulkier of the men told him in a monotone like voice. Joe let Katie slide to the ground as he remembered the dress that was still lying on his bed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he lied, not knowing what else to do.

"We'd like to search the house," the man said and threateningly tightened his grip on Robbie's shoulder. Joe glanced at his son's face, the pleading look plastered on it almost breaking his heart. He glanced back at the man.

"Fine," Joe said before stepping out of the doorway, taking Katie with him and holding her against his legs. The men walked past them and headed straight for the master bedroom, almost as if they knew exactly where to go.

Robbie ran to his father's side and Joe looked down at his children's terrified faces. What was going on?

Only a few minutes later, the men returned - dress in hand.

"Where are you going with that? Francine is going to be buried in that," Joe protested, leaving his children by themselves as he moved to stand in their pathway. The men looked at each other and one raised an eyebrow to the other.

"Is she now?" he asked, his tone mocking.

"Is that a problem?" Joe answered with a question of his own.

"I'm afraid it is," he said brusquely and made a move towards the door. Joe moved quickly and blocked the doorway.

"Well it's going to be a problem for both of us then," he said, not wanting the dress to disappear without finding out where it came from. Joe eyed the men for a moment before they roughly pushed him aside, knocking him against the wall and walked away.

"Daddy!" Katie called, running to her father's side. "Are you hurt?"

"No, honey. I'm fine."

Joe watched as the men got into the car and drove away. He squinted as he tried to see the number plate. He could only make out the first few letters. FGT.

~~~

Joe stood outside the funeral parlour, leaning casually against a rail and waited. After the incident earlier that morning, he had made the decision to bury his wife in the rose coloured chiffon dress she had chosen. Now, he waited to go inside and see her for the final time before she was buried. He hadn't seen her since she had died. He had been too afraid. But now, he had to see her before the chance disappeared.

Joe was jerked rudely out of his reverie by the sound of laughter. He turned around and stared through the door at the men who were placing Francine's casket on the table. But no one was laughing. The sound came again. Joe knitted his brows together and looked out onto the streets. It was empty. But just as Joe started to turn his attention back to the funeral parlour, a car came speeding around the corner, leaving black marks on the bitumen. Joe watched as it sped towards him. Suddenly, Joe gasped and held his breath tightly in his chest as he saw the person sitting in the backseat. Francine's face flashed past him in a smile and Joe's mouth opened to let out a chilling scream. She was wearing the dress. Joe struggled for air as the car disappeared down the street. All of a sudden, something in his mind clicked and he glanced at the number plate. The letters FGT filled his eyes and he grabbed hold of the rail, fighting to stay upright.

"Daddy?" A distant voice called to him. Joe's breath come in wheezy gasps as he lowered himself to the ground, shaking from shock.

"Daddy?" The voice came again, this time louder. Joe looked up and found Katie staring down at him, concern filling her innocent blue eyes.

"What is it sweetie?" Joe whispered, his voice hoarse.

"The men inside want to see you."

Joe sat still on the ground for a few moments. Then, he took a few deep breaths and used the rail to pull himself up, telling himself he had been seeing things.

As he walked inside, he noticed the casket was no longer on the table. A man dressed in black suit and tie rushed up to him. Joe kept staring at the empty table as the man spoke to him.

"Sir, I am sorry. I don't know what happened. One minute she was there. And the next..." His voice trailed off in confusion. Joe pushed the man aside and walked up to the empty table in a daze. He ran his fingers across the wood and as his knees slowly gave way, he sunk down on the ground beside the table. Resting his head against one of the legs, he felt his consciousness fading...

~~~

Joe's eyes slitted open and he stared up at a white ceiling.

"Honey? Are you okay? You seem to be sweating a little," A soft female voice came from beside him. He tilted his head to one side and found himself staring into his wife's eyes. She planted a kiss on his cheek and wiped his forehead.

"We better get up; it's almost 11am," she said, slipping out of her side of the bed. Joe watched her and as she stood up, Joe felt his head become a blur as he saw what she was wearing. She was wearing the dress from his dream.

As Joe went to ask where she got it, Katie appeared in the doorway. He turned to stare at her and noticed the tears trickling down her cheeks.

"There are some men in suits in the...in the..." she hiccupped and continued, "In the living room. They're being mean to Robbie..."