Disclaimer:
This is a work of pure fiction. In tribute to Halloween, I have very loosely based the premise of this story on the cancelled Showtime TV show, DEAD LIKE ME, whose premise I always found witty and a quirky look at life after death. The characters in this story as well as the writing are all my own creation, however the basic ideas were adapted from the show and I wanted to give credit where credit is due.
I hope you enjoy it. Those who know my writing know its not wham bam sex so if you're looking for that kind of story, please kindly pass this one by. Those who choose to read it, please take a moment to comment and vote. Sorry it took so long to post but schools been crazy. Good luck to everyone in the contest. Thanks all.
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All around me, empty soda cans and crumpled potato chip wrappers littered the floor. The blinds were down, engulfing the room in a stale darkness that smelled faintly like a cross between Cheese-Whiz and the next door neighbor's weekly pot party. I was sitting in the middle of the couch, wrapped in a fleece blanket like a queen surveying her lands. Considering the fact that I didn't smell much better than the room, it was a sad kingdom. Miranda had barely spoken to me since the night she had walked in on Garrett and me, preferring to spend time with her new flavor of the month and leaving me alone to stew. I couldn't blame her. I was a miserable bitch.
It had been four days since I had seen Garrett. I didn't know where he was, or if he had crossed over. I had asked Miranda but she'd said she hadn't seen him. She'd seemed satisfied to put it all behind her, but I couldn't stop wondering if he was all right.
I'd called the diner I worked at and told them I had come down with the flu till further notice. I was probably fired, but it wasn't like there weren't another hundred dead-end jobs in NYC and I had the rest of my life, excuse me, my afterlife, to figure out one that would keep at least one bag of Doritos on my table.
I reached over for the box of Mallomars on the coffee table, taking out one of the slightly melted cookies and biting into it. The chocolate smeared over my fingers, a comfort food secret passed down among women through the ages. I popped it into my mouth, trying to concentrate on the cavities I was probably developing instead of worrying about Garrett. He had been in every one of my thoughts for the last 96 hours and I was sick of it.
I sighed as I munched another cookie and then held my fingers out to my cat, Chole, so she could lick off the chocolate. She purred and I was glad someone was happy.
My gaze moved to the coffee table and the shoebox sitting on it. I had dragged it out of my closet last night and left it there. I didn't have to look inside to know what was in there, but I got up anyway, settling on the floor with the box between my legs. I tucked a stray strand of hair back behind my ear before I pulled off the lid and set it to the side. The scent of old rose petals wafted up to me in a ghostly whisper as I sifted through the contents.
I inhaled slowly as I pulled out my wedding bouquet. I had stolen it from my mother's house a few weeks after I had become a reaper. There had been hell to pay for that one, but I'd needed it to reassure myself of everything that had happened. Some people needed to see their headstone. I had needed to see the bouquet because it represented so much more of my life and the mistakes that had gotten me to this point, making me who I was.
I set it down gently and then pulled out the picture frame from the bottom of the box. It was plain black wood with the black and white picture in it. The quality was grainy, but the two people in it were laughing, their smiles happy, without a care in the world.
I barely recognized that girl anymore. She didn't fit into this world of mine where death was an everyday reality and taking souls had become a quota game, each one bringing me one step closer to the unknown number that would free me from this afterlife and send me into the next unknown. It was a hard way to live life and I wondered if any of it really mattered in the end.
I frowned, tossing the photograph back into the box, ignoring the photo-strip of Garrett and I, the day he had proposed, smiling and goofing for the camera as if in a year, our life together wouldn't be over.
I flipped the photos the bird and then reached for my wineglass, taking a sip of the cheap vodka which was the only alcohol I had had on hand.
Life wasn't supposed to end like this. There had to be more to it, but hell if I knew what it was.
I groaned when the doorbell rang. "Go away."
It rang again and again, insistent in its trill. If it was someone handing out campaign posters, they were going to find their names spelled out in plastic on my refrigerator. I shivered as my bare feet touched the cold floorboards, shuffling down the hallway to the door with my wineglass in hand. "Can't the dead rest in peace?"
"You're the undead darling. Now open the door."
I sighed as I heard Sebastian's voice through the door. I hesitated, pressing my forehead against the cool wood before I opened it and offered a deadpan look to him and Adam. Sebastian's nose wrinkled, one hand going to his throat as he tsked his tongue. "You look terrible. Are those Sponge Bob pajama pants? Good God you so need our help."
"I am fine. Now go away."
"Not on your life. Miranda said that you haven't left this apartment in days. It's time for you to get into the shower so we can burn those pajamas and try to get a food into you that won't block every one of your arteries.."
I leaned up and snapped my teeth together by his nose, then looked at Adam who offered me a sympathetic smile. "I can't believe you put up with this everyday."
"He makes me laugh."
I hid a smile, grumbling as Sebastian ushered me into the shower while Adam went to clean up the apartment. Twenty minutes later I was showered and smelling like freesia and peaches. As reluctant as I was to admit it, I felt better and pinched Sebastian's ass in thank you before I padded down to the kitchen.
I barely recognized it. Adam had thrown away all of the empty wrappers and cans and the pile of dirty dishes in the sink were neatly drying in the dish rack. It smelled warm and homey, like pasta sauce and basil. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until my stomach rumbled in greeting. I'd always been a sucker for Adam's cooking. Adam smiled as I came into the kitchen and gestured for me to sit down. I sank into the chair, pulling my hair back into a damp ponytail as he set an apple martini down in front of me.
"God bless you."
He winked and dropped a kiss onto the top of my head. "You look more like yourself again."
"Well looking is better than nothing I guess."
"That bad huh?"
"Missing out on a one-day sale is bad, Adam. This is more along the lines of wanting to fall into a black hole somewhere."
"You'll feel better after dinner. I am making lasagna so you and Miranda can have leftovers for tomorrow."
"Have I told you lately that I love you?"
His dimpled flickered as he grinned, patting my arm. "Not today but it's always nice to know I am a wanted man."
"If I could clone you, I could make millions."
He chuckled and I took a sip of my fruity drink, loving him even more as the cool, sweet liquid went down my throat. This was the life; cared for by two beautiful, successful and sensitive men. Of course there would never be marriage and there would probably never be sex. But by god there would be lasagna and fruity drinks and in today's world, what else could a girl really want? A ghostly ex- fiancΓ© who was gorgeous and confident but possessed the emotional maturity of a five year old? I'd take my chances with the martini.