Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Have you ever thought about your own funeral? Have you thought about who would come to mourn among friends? Have you thought about what would be said about you after you're gone? Would the people that mattered most be sad? Would they cry because you died or smile because you lived?
So have you ever thought those depressing thoughts? Most probably haven't, not until later in life at least. Who wants to think about death when you're young?
I personally didn't think about my own funeral. I didn't think about death or any dark thoughts really. I figured I'd be eighty or maybe even ninety when I died. I figured I would have lived before I died. I always thought I'd get to see the world, see new and exciting places. I always thought that before I died I would've loved and been loved in return. But, you see, Death doesn't care what you thought, what you hoped or dreamed. Death doesn't care about your plans it only cares about its own, about keeping the order of the grand design. Death is a bastard and a dick and a bitch.
I was twenty when I died. Some freak accident involving a skydiver and a parachute that didn't open. Bet that guy was freaking out, thinking he was going to hit the ground and splat. But oh no, Death had other plans. Instead of hitting the ground he hit me, hard. I broke his fall and he broke my neck.
Oh was it traumatizing to see my limp body lying on the ground. A head was not supposed to bend that way. Oddly enough my first thought of my afterlife wasn't 'what the fuck!' It was 'why the fuck did I wear that?' That was probably because I was pretty sure I was dreaming or having a psychotic breakdown. But then he showed up. Then I was told I was dead and that I was now a Reaper. What sucks is that you can still get headaches in the afterlife.
But let's move on because by this point I'm sure you'd like to know my name. My name is Sora this is the story of my afterlife.