My Life After Life
Chapter 1: That Goddamned Cat!
There's really no obscure way to put this, but… I, uh, kind of… you know, died. But just a little. A little.
My death was awfully clichéd. It had the rainy day, stray cat running across the street, me running after it, a large truck turning round the corner. It happened very quickly.
Kind of like this:
"Get back here, you rotten cat! When I catch you, I'm gonna cut off your"—censored—"and shove it down your—"
BLAM!
And then I was dead.
Well, actually, no; I just sort of laid there in the middle of the street, stunned, as my blood formed a shallow puddle around my body. It was very anime-esque.
Ah, I can still hear the horrified gasps and screams and the rapid dialing of NINE-ONE-ONE as my eyes clouded over and I slipped away, into the inky blackness that is death.
Just kidding. I never slipped away, or whatever. I was just in very severe pain and I couldn't move, and sometime between the truck hitting me and my body falling to the ground my eyes closed so I couldn't see a single thing. But I felt my body being lifted up into a vehicle I later realized was an ambulance.
I was carted off to the nearest hospital, where the surgeons and whoever tried to fix my screwed up innards.
Somewhere along the task of reassembling my innards, I heard an annoying voice cry out, "It's too late! She's gone already!"
And I was all, "No I'm not, beeyatch!" with a neck roll and everything. Unfortunately my body didn't move and my voice didn't come out, so yeah. They heard none of it.
But even thinking that little bit made me so tired I went to sleep. I know, I'm stupid. You don't need to tell me.
"WHO GOES TO SLEEP WHEN THEY JUST GOT HIT BY A TRUCK?! AND WHEN THEY'RE POSSIBLY HAVING AN OUT-OF-BODY EXPERIENCE?!"
Me, apparently.
I woke up surrounded by blue.
I know, so poetic. But it was true. Then again, I was looking in the direction that I supposed was straight up, so I was probably looking at the sky…
"Wait, what? Didn't you just get hit by a truck? Weren't you trying to do a sassy neck roll? Weren't you in a freaking hospital? When'd you get outside?"
Maybe I was in heaven.
Of course, there was no way I would be that lucky, would there?
Then I realized that the ground beneath me was very cold and very hard. I could feel the coldness (is that even a word?) seeping through my clothes—wait, I was naked—and into my skin.
Wait a second. I was naked?
Sure enough, when I looked down, what greeted me was a pair of braless A-cup breasts.
Oh. Okay, then. At least now I knew I didn't mysteriously change genders between dying and going to heaven, or wherever I was.
Just to make sure, I looked over at my abdomen. No male reproductive organ, thank goodness. I'm not that sure if I really want one, thank you very much.
Now that I knew which way was up and which was down and that I was definitely a female, I took the time to observe my surroundings a bit more. Clearly I was sitting—previously lying—on the roof of some building. I'd obviously watched enough anime and read enough manga to know that it was either a high school or some rich, lonely bastard's mansion. I hated both of the options, as I was still naked and both of them (the options, you dolt; not my boobies or whatever you're thinking) involved people and eyes.
I closed my eyes, wishing I had something to put on. Not out of modesty, though. There wasn't really much to see on my body, anyway. It's not like I was some Z-cup blond bombshell who, when going to the beach, was forced to wear a bikini top a jillion times too small because THEY DIDN'T HAVE HER SIZE. I didn't want a shirt out of the need for survival, either. Only my butt and my thighs and whatever else had been in contact with the cold roof were cold-ish. I felt the pressure of the wind, but not the coldness that came with it, for some reason. Weird.
I mentally pictured the outfit I had died in: my favorite pair of blue jeans, a horizontally striped blue-and-white t-shirt that made me feel like a cosplayer, and a two-sizes too large yellow jacket with a rubber ducky on the breast pocket. I knew I looked ridiculous in my outfit, but it was comfortable, and the ducky was just too cute.
When I opened my eyes again, there they were. By 'they,' I mean my death clothes. On my body. Where they were supposed to be.
That's when it finally clicked.
Oh dear lord, I was a ghost, wasn't I.
And that wasn't a question. That was a statement. I was a ghost. A MUTHAFU—
I think you get the point.
So anyway, there I was, trying to get over my ghostliness when the door (yes, the roof came with a door on it—in it—near it—whatever, I don't care anymore) opened with a lethargic creak. A short teenage boy with explosive brown hair and brown eyes came through, flanked closely by a gray-haired—not silver, gray—delinquent and a black-haired sex god. Actually, they were all sexy. Whatever. Following the sexy trio (well, not the brunet… he was a little too scrawny for my tastes) was a pineapple-haired cosplay girl and a white-haired dude who kept screaming "EXTREME!" like it was the only word he knew.
All of them were dressed in uniforms—so this was a school—and none of them seemed to notice me. They sat down in a ring and brought their lunches out in front of them to eat. It looked like some sort of demonic ritual, with the circle and everything.
They look familiar… insisted that little voice in the back of my head. Take a closer look at the scrawny one…
So I did.
His brown eyes looked up, straight into mine, and I could've sworn my heart skipped a beat as my inner fangirl gave him a suspicious once-over and immediately recognized him as…
Oh, fuck.