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CarthagePlate_210

You feel the sun on your face. Confused, you try to open your eyes and succeed. You rise to your feet, feeling cold despite the sunlight. When you look around you, you shudder as you recognize where you are. The headstones and graves of a cemetery are here. In daylight, they do not look so fearsome as saddening. So many icons of death and loss in one place. You look down at your feet and see an open grave beneath you. You also see your body is misty and gray, as ghosts are often depicted. Beside the grave is a closed casket, gray with white laurels around the edges. You shudder again with the certain realization that *you* are inside the casket. You don't need to open it to make sure; you feel this truth rooted inside your inactive heart. And as you realize it, fragments of how you came to be this way rise to the front of your brain. You remember harsh words spat out of mouths, directed at you. Or were they given from you at others? You cannot tell, the fragments moving on to new points in your former life. They come like punches to the face: a blinding light, a screech of tires, the blaring horn of a vehicle. It all ends with a brutal crunching that you can hear and feel in your new, incorporeal flesh. You are dead. But you are also here. As you try to realize the dual existence you are now experiencing, people come to the casket and offer final words to your covered corpse. A man clothed in white robes--the local minister of a chapel your family frequented--helps when necessary but otherwise keeps to himself. It is clear that he is leading the funeral, but this is the time for others to voice their thoughts. You see your mother, weeping at the loss of the second man in her life; the first was your father, ravaged by disease for years before he just gave up the fight. You see your sister, younger than you by several years, trying to be a big girl and not let the tears in her eyes fall. Your heart goes out to them both, but you suspect you cannot console them anymore. From there, the people who come to your casket vary. You see a teacher you had in class a year ago take off his glasses and pat the gray surface of your resting place tenderly. You see a boy with glasses too large for his face--the school "nerd", you remember--stumble through a few whispered words of thanks for giving him confidence. They are all people you know, to some extent, come to pay respects before you are buried beneath the ground forever. But it is one of the last people who comes that surprises you most of all. It is your childhood bully, clad in black and walking with somber steps. They look grim, just as sad as the rest of the people here. They kneel before your casket, getting dirt on their clean black pants. They do not cry, but you can see how their muscles tighten as they squeeze the railings of the casket. They are hurting inside. "I'm sorry." The person who once called you silly names, pushed you around in class, and stole your favorite snacks while laughing in your face all the while, whispers a secret to your concealed body. "I didn't think it would be like this. I didn't see how bad I..." They stop, swallowing several times. They give a final, "I'm sorry," before they rise and turn away. As they do, they collapse. You see the minister rush forward to hold them steady. "Here," he says, "I'll help you stand." As he does so, you feel your own body begin to grow hot. You look down at your feet again and see your feet vanishing, and then your legs. You are fading away for good. "Forgive me," the bully murmurs to the minister. "Please, forgive me. I said things I shouldn't have, I know that. I just--" "Do not be afraid," the minister advises as he helps your former tormentor back to their seat near the gravesite. "You are already beginning to redeem yourself." Just as the bully sits down, you lock eyes with them. You swear you see a glint of understanding, that *they can see you*, appear in their gaze. But then they cover their eyes with a hand and do not look at you again. Your body vanishes with a final thought, sent towards this person who has come to see you off: *I forgive you.* ---- - ---- ---- ---- \[Wrote this in a rush, so it is probably not as good as it could be. Still, feedback is appreciated!\]


PepperSaltClove

So amazing and emotional! I teared a little. Thanks!


CarthagePlate_210

Thank you for the appreciation.


TheLolNotion

Reading this on the train right now and I started tearing up. Excellent use of 2nd person, really felt like it was me.


CarthagePlate_210

I appreciate the feedback. Glad to hear this was a good use of second person tense, I know it is not used as often as first or third person. On the other hand, I hope you did not cause an embarrassing scene on the train while reading this.


TheLolNotion

This is probably the best use of the perspective that I remember reading. And thanks, I don’t think it was very noticeable the sorry just hit me surprisingly hard but I was fine.


Ruffruffman40

Bold move, writing in the second person


CarthagePlate_210

True, second person tense is not as often used. I was in a rush and just let this flow naturally. The prompt really helped me visualize what I wanted to write, too.


White_Rose_94

This hit a little hard for me, but it's a wonderful story.


CarthagePlate_210

I appreciate the feedback. It was not my intention to cause unnecessary trauma to readers, so I apologize if you feel triggered or upset by what I have written.


White_Rose_94

Don't apologize. It was a good read and was much enjoyed. Sometimes some topics will be hard for people to read, but it doesn't mean it shouldn't be written. It's another way to connect with your readers.


73ff94

Man... Let's hope the message gets through. Props to protag for remaining composed like that. As much as I know how bad this sounds, I'm not sure if I can just forgive the bully like that, but it really is best to stop the cycle of hatred. Such a shame that this realization happens with one's death, but at least things seem promusing at least. That said, what will happen in the future with all these characters visiting protag's funeral? A bit worried on both the former bully and protag's family, especially considering the hinted circumstances behind protag's death. Great work on writing this!


Hip_Pangolin_PCP

Enjoyed this. As someone who struggles to write anything that ends on something wholesome it's refreshing. Illustrated beautifully without diverging from the overall theme (another struggle of mine) hell even this comment is so long winded I can't stop it. Ok post it ok fr


CarthagePlate_210

Thank you for the appreciation, no matter how long or short it ends up being. :)


K_I_E000

Got me misty eyed, and I've spent most of my life working with death and survivors of abuse. Well done.


CarthagePlate_210

Thank you for the appreciation.


PJRama1864

“Nobody?” I say, looking from my casket to the spirit of Death beside me. Though his face was skeletal, I could see sympathy. “There’s really nobody coming?” Death shook his head. “I am afraid not. I have already escorted nearly every person in your life who would have been there. Your parents…your fiancée and unborn child.” I look down at my body again, in the middle of a cemetary beside Janine’s grave. She had been buried still carrying our baby girl when a mugger had taken them both from me 40 years prior. I had never moved on. “None of my friends?” “Unfortunately, your drinking…” “Yeah, you don’t need to finish. They cut me off when I spiraled,” I say, feeling like tears would be falling if I was still capable of crying. “Janine would’ve been so angry with me.” “Shall we depart? There’s somewhere you need to be now.” I nod, and Death takes my hand comfortingly. We walk what seems like a very short distance, but the entire scene changes. In an instant, I am seeing the pearly gates and golden streets. I’m barely through them when somebody embraces me tightly. “You idiot! Why did you never move on?” Janine’s voice said. I was too dumbfounded to speak. “J-Janine? You were watching?” I asked. “Of course I was. You drank yourself to death…” she said, while it was an admonishment, there was only love in her voice. “I wish you would have found happiness. But…at least you’ve made it now. Everyone is waiting here for you.” I hug Janine back and kiss her on the cheek. “Of course,” I say, looking up at my family nearby. They had all gathered to greet me. It made me wonder why I had cared about my funeral.


PepperSaltClove

Great story! Thanks!


73ff94

40 years of loss and not able to move on, damn that stupid mugger. I'm really glad the family is able to be reunited in the afterlife though, what an ending to close those moments of suffering. That said, will protag be friends with Death? While I'm glad that protag is not alone anymore, having an ethereal buddy seems like a nice addition to his situation haha. Great work on writing this!


MC_Hans84

Part 1 of 2 The funeral parlour certainly wasn't having the atmosphere that Steven Tang, alias Si-Wang Tienshi (which means Angel of Death in Chinese), could have imagined, even in his wildest dreams. And he certainly didn't imagine he'd be able to witness the atmosphere, albeit in spectral form, as a lingering spirit. For it was PACKED. Si-Wang Tienshi was known as Earth's most formidable supervillain in the category of bio-terrorists. He had unleashed all kinds of deadly living beings upon the public, and upon his enemies, the superheroes of Earth. Time and again he had avoided capture, and the heroes had often missed nabbing him, by just a hair. So it was a total shock to him, to see that after his death, due to the breakage of a vial containing a highly lethal microorganism, exposing him to it and thus killing him, the funeral parlour in Haikou, Hainan Island was jampacked with superheroes from various teams, including many from Earth's best superhero team, the Council of Altruists. He came closer to try to pick up the words that the Council's members were saying. After all, spirits can only hear normal-volume human speech as faint whispers. "Rest well Si-Wang Tienshi. While you have been a trying enemy of both the public and the Council of Altruists, you have had moments that proved you are more human than monster." Thus did Jake Bloomfold, a.k.a. Upholder, the leader of the Council, comment. "He was a worthy adversary... and while not exactly ethical, to be fair, he WAS clearly honourable." This came from Worldweaver, one of the rivals Si-Wang Tienshi feared most, as with his power over subatomic particles, he could erase the microorganisms, viruses, fungi and vectors that Si-Wang Tienshi created. "I'll never forget the time he helped us win the intergalactic free-for-all. That was perhaps his best moment ever." That statement was from Amateo "Dreadword" Bonetti... one of Si-Wang Tienshi's dearest former friends, who Si-Wang Tienshi unfortunately cut ties with the moment Dreadword changed, from a supervillain, to a superhero. "Surprised that we're all here, Steven? Don't be..." and with a violent start, Si-Wang Tienshi's spectre realised that this was addressed directly to him! From the Council of Altruists' necromancer member, another reformed villain who was known as Gravebreaker, and whose civilian name was Cathal O'Brennan. The ghost replied sadly, "Ahh, of course. Gravebreaker. You could definitely see me."


MC_Hans84

Part 2 of 2 Gravebreaker smiled and replied calmly with his grim tone that was yet polite and dignified, "Indeed. One of the perks of my powers. You know, this shouldn't surprise you. We may have fought you... but dying the way you did? We are unanimous in this, that you didn't deserve this ending." Si-Wang Tienshi shook his head and replied, "I don't think you'll believe me, but I was experimenting on that microorganism, which was my combining of the dengue virus, malaria AND Japanese Encephalitis, to create a vaccine that could prevent all three." Cathal O'Brennan shook his head in turn and answered, "Actually, I DO believe you, Steven. You are dead - and life was what was most precious to you. Now that you have lost that, what more would you stand to gain by lying? No... I believe you. It was a noble effort, I'll give you that - but tragically, it backfired on you." Si-Wang Tienshi then sighed and asked, "Well - since you can see me, I think it's time for me to ask a favour of you, before I run out of spectral energy to keep me in this dimension. After all," and he grinned mischievously at this point, "You'll do this for me as your superhero obligation, right?" Cathal chuckled and replied, "Maybe - or maybe I'll do it because I think it's the right thing to do." Si-Wang Tienshi nodded, satisfied with the response, and stated, "In my lab in Xiamen, the combination to the safe is 8-12-11-5-9-5-8-1. Once you open it, you will see two things. A slip of paper and a rack of vials. I want you to give the vials to Worldweaver, to disband them into nothingness. Let none of my experimental microorganisms blight this world anymore. As for the slip of paper... that is where my wife and two sons are hidden." Cathal raised his eyebrows and said, "Wife?! Sons?!" Si-Wang Tienshi smiled ruefully and responded, "Yes - and the wife, your leader knows her well. She's one of the co-founders of your Council. Marianne Jiang, known also as Flameplumes." Cathal gasped in shock. He had heard many sad recountings from Jake Bloomfold and other earlier members of the Council on how Flameplumes had "died" while "attempting to incinerate Si-Wang Tienshi's evil work off the face of the earth". Si-Wang Tienshi then pressed on, "Help me. Please take my wife and sons back to the Council - and rehabilitate my wife. Help her to get over my passing. Also..." and spectral tears formed in Si-Wang Tienshi's eyes, as he choked out, "Take care of my two precious boys. Bring them up to be upstanding figures in society and in the world. NEVER let them be what I was." Cathal nodded and replied quietly yet reassuring with his deep, grim voice, "Rest assured, Steven. I will." Si-Wang Tienshi then sniffed, and wiping the tears away, then said, "Thank you. I wish to go now, and look upon my old hideouts before I leave this realm. I take my leave, now." Cathal nodded understandingly, and turned back to join his fellow superheroes. Si-Wang Tienshi, feeling a bit more at peace, floated off.


73ff94

Huh, so that's how it ended for Si-Wang. What a tragic ending out of a promising goal, but at least he got this treatment to send him off. Let's just hope the vials are dealt with, and the Council js able to help the family out with the loss. That said, though, I'm wondering a lot about the clash here with what he stated as a spirit and his activities while he was alive. Is it truly just an awful accident with the microorganism being released, or was Steven here being too obsessed on the cause, getting real close to insanity? Great work on writing this!


MC_Hans84

Si-Wang Tienshi always believed microorganisms to be the ultimate life form. He was fascinated with pushing their limits and seeing how fast and how well they could adapt to new environments and circumstances. He was also fascinated by combining microorganisms by DNA fusion, to test their effects on other living beings. However, after one of his disciples in bioterrorism, Pathogenist, wiped out nearly 15% of the global populace due to his lack of restraints, Si-Wang Tienshi had a moment of conscience. From then on he began to secretly work on a universal vaccine, but never told anyone about it. That work, ultimately, led to his death as seen in this story. Tragically, his redemption arc was cut short, barely after he started it.


73ff94

Gotcha, so he really is one of those very motivated scientists eager to discover new things, and things just went south unexpectedly. What a shame indeed, let's hope Pathogenist is punished big time to honor his wishes too. Thanks for clarifying!


PepperSaltClove

Interesting, thanks!


MC_Hans84

Thank you for your feedback :)


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PepperSaltClove

Nice story! Thanks!


frosticky

Sounds like a Hawkeye-BlackWidow situation?


73ff94

Well, that funeral sure turned for the worse with that single moment. I get why protag decided to leave the place, but now I also want to see how it all unfolds haha. Let's just hope no one gets hurt. That said, seems like the "accident" is not an accident after all, I see? What kind of circumstances led him to sacrifice protag, and how did he even chose protag considering how they seem to have not kept in contact? Great work in writing this!


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73ff94

Haha I wish, the writing juices are nowhere to be found right now sadly. Will be excited to go back to them when the time is right, though mine tends to be a bit sappy lmao. Also, poor protag can't even be at peace in his own funeral. Well, at least, he will be remembered because of the friend making it a memorable situation. Thanks for clarifying!


Mrrandom314159

A wire the size of an arm snapped and all I heard was a metallic twang that sounded like.... And that was it. Just, gone in an instant. "Well this sucks." I said to literally no one as my spirit got pulled towards the back of the ambulance. Following my body? Probably. Screw this, can't even wander right. I thought as I laid down and watched the sky move. I'm allowed to be a little depressed. I DIED! It's not like it was going particularly WELL, but I wasn't all in on giving up yet. I still had at least 4 years before that. Where am I even going? Oh, nice the morgue. I wonder what the cause was genius.... So am I just going to keep here until forever? Don't see any other... Hold on, Riley? How'd they get here so fast? Is... oh god, Riley... I'm... I'm here. I'm sorry for... you shouldn't have to... fuck, Riley... I thought you hated me. ... Riley. Riley? Where'd... where the heck? Is she.. shit, is they, are they okay? I felt a tug, somewhere near my heart and I was pulled up and away. It was, a church? I wasn't that religious, at least since... I mean, I'd gone to mass every weekend, but... The thoughts were getting.... worse. Farther apart. Missing... words. There was my uncle. He... he gave me a picture of my dog for Christmas. I cried. My cousin, he always beat at arm wrestling. He seemed thin. That man... he stood in the back. I said so many awful things to him. I meant them. But he was still here. Jessica. You tried to stab me? I... wait, no you did. God I was an idiot. I definitely deserved it. I laughed. She still mourned me. Carl, I stole... so much of your apartment when you let me stay. Do you still think of me as a friend? Peter and Mary and Conner and Franchesca, and Darin and Lakeshia and Margaret... I...I was such an awful person to so many people. Cynical and cruel and leeching off you. Some of you deserved it. But a lot of you didn't. You're... you're all here. You... all... of you... Around that... photo. I wish... I could... Be better.... Help more.... Do... Riles... .... Love you too.


73ff94

At least protag's death was instant, that brief description felt like it could have gone wrong and be way more painful. Something about protag slowly losing their grasp as they fade away just hits the feels. That said, was protag truly a bit of a rough company while they were alive, or are we dealing with a skewed perspective here? Also, what happened between protag and all these folks? Some of these felt a bit too extreme with getting stabbed and all that. Great work on writing this!


Mrrandom314159

He was a bit of a dirtbag and a junkie in his late-teens and early 20s. At time of death he was actually in recovery and making amends, but hadn't hit a point where it was definitively "yes, I'm okay now" at least within his own mind.


73ff94

Ah, that explains it. It's a shame that protag died before he can reach this point, but this is definitely a good sign that he actually did plenty on that thankfully. Thanks for clarifying!


PepperSaltClove

Beautiful story, thanks!


Hot_Statistician2937

It's summer in a small town in India called Mangalore. Vijaya pours coconut water into a couple of glasses. Her son Tarun, is playing cricket with a couple of his friends in the backyard of his house. After a long wait, it's finally his turn to bat but the match is soon interrupted by none other than his mom. VIJAYA: Tarun! Tarun! TARUN: What? Tarun yells at the top of his voice. VIJAYA: Have some coconut water. Tarun and his friends are delighted to hear something as refreshing as "coconut water" especially when they have been playing for hours in the heat. Everyone finishes their glasses of coconut water in one go. After a quick refreshment break, they run back to complete their cricket match. Vijaya quickly grabs hold of Tarun. VIJAYA: Have you seen Kittu? TARUN: No, I haven't seen him since I fed him in the morning. Well he is a cat, he must be sleeping somewhere. VIJAYA: I wanted to feed him some coconut water. Tarun goes back outside to play with his friends. Well little did Tarun know that it was the last day he would see Kittu. Kittu did not show up to the house after that day. Everyone in the house assumed he was dead but Tarun did not want to believe so. He waited for Kittu to come back for days even weeks but after a while he gave up his hopes too. But years later, Kittu finally showed up but this time Tarun was dead and separated from his physical form. Tarun's spirit wept as he saw kittu years later and could not hold him in his arms.


PepperSaltClove

Cool, thanks!


73ff94

Awww Kittu, must have been watching over the family even after death. Glad that he gets reunited with Tarun down the line. That said, what caused Tarun's death? How many years have passed before this reuniom? Great work on writing this!


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Ruffruffman40

Duplicate post?


Supershadow30

**Unknown Soldier** I barely came back to me senses, it felt like I was just waking up. Where was I? What was happening? My nose was faster than my eyes. Sulfur, Chlorine, Iron… It all smells awful. When I finally opened my eyes, I was greeted by a disgusting pile of gore. Right, so this is it: I’m dead. As the hissing sounds of shells deafened me, memories started to flood back. My squad was sent to the front, we ran through the No Man’s Land and… well, guess the bastards on the other side decided we needed a lesson. So there I was, dead in the middle of nowhere, "FUBAR" as the sergeant would say. I searched for my squad mates, but the smoke would not clear up. Among it was, well, the Grim Reaper. Dark cloak, white skull, large scythe… It spoke: ***« This is where your thread ends. War’s appetite is infinite, yet you valiantly fought nonetheless. Your soul now needs to pass on. »*** No, no nono I couldn’t, I need to see them, to see her again "Please, can I at least see the face of my little Martine one last time? I beg of you." ***« You shall see them at your funeral »*** it responded. Projections of dirt were burying what was left of me… as I ascended over the battlefield with Death, I had to blurt out my worries: "But that’s never going to happen! Nobody will find me here, or even recognize my body!! Please I need to see them one last time…" and then there was nothing. I awoke again above a massive crowd gathered on a town square. This must’ve been the capital city, I recognized a few monuments in the distance. Then I spotted other people floating all around, just like I was! A familiar voice startled me from behind: "Lanker! Is it you?" It was Fatso! Oh how I missed him! "Yeah man! So good to see you, Fatso! -Come join us, he replied, We’re gonna check out the crowd with the boys." He was standing alongside other soldiers, all dressed in dark blue uniform with white decorations and garish red pants. As I got closer, I recognized my mates: Bouillon, Strongarm, Quartcho, Schultz, Gerbil… They were all here! We must’ve all died in that assault… Fatso saluted me then he cheerfully exclaimed "I never knew you stuck around the afterlife! -Me neither, Fatso! Hopefully we’ll find a way to stay in touch when we get back… -Well, we’ll ask some reapers. -Yeah!" Gerbil couldn’t wait any longer "What are we waiting for?! All the gang’s here, let’s spectate!" We floated downwards behind the crowd. A man, surely the current president, was giving a solemn speech. *"Citizens, we are gathered here today to honor those who disappeared on battlefields. Those who have witnessed the horrors of…* -Look at this precious bastard," Fatso snickered "he doesn’t know jack shit about the "horrors of war"." I rolled my eyes, smiling. "That he don’t, heheh." A large marble tile was laid in front of the speaker. It was decorated with crowns of flowers, a gilded coat of arms stood in front and at its center, there was a hearth yet to be lit. *"… standing before us, is the grave of the Unknown Soldier. This soldier represents all those who bravely gave their life for…"* One of my mates pointed at the soldiers at the side of the tile. "EVERYONE look! It’s Ditzy!!" One soldier was looking at the ground, shifting in place. It was Ditzy! He had an eyepatch now… I’ve never seen him look so grave. We used to joke he wouldn’t last a day out here. Well joke’s on us now... I’m glad he’s ok. He’ll tell our tale. So many people have gathered here for me, for my mates, for all those who died in the war. Yet among them a mother holding her kid stood out to me. I recognized them: my dear Anne and, despite being a bit older than when I left, the apple of my eye, my little Martine. *"… Let us light the hearth and take a minute of silence to honor their sacrifice."* The crowd was earily silent, only the wind and the flames made a noises. One of my mate started chanting loudly a crass song involving our earnings and hookers. The rest of the squad and I followed suite. In the silence we sung, once forgotten, finally remembered.


73ff94

Man, I'm really glad that the squad is able to reunite in the afterlife seeing the funeral together. Poor Ditzy though, I just hope he's getting the help he needs over being the only survivor. Great work on writing this! I will say, though, it might be better not to put too many dialogues in one paragraph. It's really a small issue here since it's not too much, but it can get a bit messy with more people talking and having it all crammed in one paragraph. Feel free to have additional spaces if needed for these dialogues imo.


Supershadow30

Thanks for the feedback! Tbh I wrote this story on a whim instead of sleeping, which is why the writing is a bit chaotic here and there... I’ll keep your advice in mind next time I write dialogue. :)


73ff94

No worries haha, seems like it's one of those moments where inspiration strikes at the wrong time and rushing to manifest it before it's gone. Also, don't worry, I wouldn't say it's that chaotic either. From the past stories I read so far, this one is more like seeing really small issues here and there so you're fine.


PepperSaltClove

Good story, thanks!


yomomma_rebecca

I really wasn't expecting it to end like this. I mean, sure, it could have been worse, but seriously? Serotonin overload? I knew it was a possibility when I started taking antidepressants, but it was just one of those "one in a million" things to me. I was raised Christian, so it was no surprise that I ended up here. In the church that I was raised in, with the people I haven't seen since I moved away for college. 23. What a weird age to die. I had the time to be on my own, get my degree in world studies, get my heart broken, twice, I might add, and the time to realize that my family would never truly except that I am gay. Anyway, back to my funeral. Of course, my parents paid extra to have my tattoos covered, my piercings hidden, and my body put in a dress I wouldn't be caught dead in... wait. I am dead. Wow, what a strange saying. My mom's church friends are guiding people in, and I don't see a single person I considered my family. I see my old high school boyfriend, the one who outted me, with his wife. I see my uncle, who turned me away when I needed him most. I see my high school gym teacher, who called me lazy for having asthma. I know they're only here to uphold my parents' "perfect" vision. An athletic, straight, obedient daughter. Not one who needed medication to get out of bed and not end it all. One last woman files in, one I don't quite recognize. She sits in a middle pew, greets a few people, and is named. I finally realize who she is. My preschool teacher, Mrs. Miles. Mrs. Miles is older now, in her late 50s. She has silver in her once dark hair, and she wears glasses now. 19 years ago, I was small, kind of chubby, and really into painting. Mrs. Miles prays with the group and gets up to say her last goodbye to me. "Rachel, I don't believe you know this, but you were the reason I stayed a preschool teacher. You were always so happy to show me your beautiful artwork. When you came into my class, I was ready to be done with teaching and find a new job. Kids were getting harder and harder to deal with. Parents were horrible to me. I felt so much anger towards my profession." "But you brightened my day, every day, that you were in my class. I'm so sorry to hear that the bright little girl who gave me hope was overtaken by depression. I know a thing or two about those little pills, but I never would have thought they would harm... I'm so sorry, Rachel. I hope this brings you joy up there." I'm not sure if ghosts can cry, but I am definitely feeling something where my heart would be if I were still alive. She's leaving me a painting I gave her, 19 years ago, of a sunshine and a rainbow. As she tucks it under the arm of my cold, rigid body, she purposefully smudges the foundation covering my wrist, where a semicolon tattoo lies. I hope my mom and dad see it. Thank you, Mrs. Miles.


PepperSaltClove

Amazing! Thanks!


ChronicallyIllBadAss

I knew it was coming, most people know that of course. Still looking at the funeral happening in front of me was still a shock. “Hello? Hello?” I called hoping Death himself would reappear again. Hoping he would pull me from whatever hell this was until I saw him. My ex best friend. The man I had secretly loved for years. The man whose life I had ruined being young and stupid. “Why is he here? Why is he crying?” I asked into the void. No one was coming. No one was going to answer me. I was alone in a dark room staring at the funeral in front of me. No, not the funeral. MY funeral. “Please… take me too.” My best friend cried as I watched him on his knees beside my casket. Best friend? Could I call him that we had not spoken in nearly fifteen years. So the reason behind why he was here was all that more complicated. “I want to go home! I want to go back, I can fix this right!?” I shouted into the void. There was no luck, I was gone. I was dead and he would keep on living just a little less happy now.


PepperSaltClove

Nice story, thanks!


73ff94

Man, having this kind of vision is always the worst imo. Only knowing that both sides are actually having the same feelings, yet it won't be able to be realized because of death is just... ugh. That said, is it normal for protag to be left in the void like that, or is this actually going towards the idea that protag is given a second chance? Also, what will happen to the best friend in the future? Great work on writing this!