Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.

This is my life, my motto.

I look at the body of the young boy in front of me. He'd be quite good looking if he weren't
dead. The family didn't want to be here but two of his friends did. Nice kids but I really
don't think that they should see this. I'll have to find some way to get rid of them while I
embalm the body. I doesn't matter how tough you think you are or how tough you are but seeing
someone embalm a body is different when it's being done to someone you know.

Jeffery, thank God for him, offers to take them on a tour of the home. The girl looks ready to
leave but the boy looks like he wants to stay. He seems... wrong. I mean, I've seen all sorts of
people suffering in their grief and everyone has a different reaction but this kid strikes me
as... well... just wrong. Like he's not human. Just my imagination I think.

They're gone and now I can get to business. I turn on radio and tune it until I find a station I
like. 'Beautiful Day Blues' is playing. One of my favourites so I leave the radio where it is.

Time to get to work.

The face has got a few bruises but luckily it's mostly intact. Some blush will easily fix up
this kids face. I look at the picture once again. I don't understand these Goth kids. When they
die, their parents want them to look natural but it's hard to make a person look natural when
they have zero pigment in their skin. I decide to just cover the bruises but leave him looking
pale white. Kid must have spent a lot of time avoiding the sun. My skin's almost as pale as him
but not by choice.

I lift his eyelids. Grey-blue stares back at me. I pick up my needle already filled with the
hardening solution and put some into each eye to help them keep their shape. Next go on the
cups. They look like contact lens with those little spikes that they put on cheap plastic
admission buttons. These keep the eyelids from falling back when the body is moved.

His hair is intact but it needs to be cleaned. I decide to drain the blood first, just in case
I get any on it. I hook up the machine, making sure to insert the tube into his artery. Veins
just collapse and then you're left with a real mess. I flick the machine on and watch the red
blood that was his life source flow into a plastic container. In the end, we're not that much;
a few quarts of blood, some skin and bones and a bit of flab.

That's about it.

As it hums and pulls out the blood, I get to work on the rest of him. Until now, I've had most
of the kid covered with a sheet. They may be dead but they were someone's child at one point,
someone's love or someone's friend. I always remember that most of all. I pull the sheet back to
check out the injuries.

One of his legs is broken but I don't have to worry much about it. Open casket isn't what it
used to be, more like half-open. Now, if you don't want to, you don't have to cloth the bottom
half of the body. But we do anyway. Just cause. I pull the sheet back up to his mid-stomach. His
chest is covered with bruises but it's nothing to be worried about. The shirt and pants that the
parents sent me will easily cover both the leg and they bruises up. But his hair is another
problem.

I turn off the machine. It's done inserting the embalming fluid and has pulled out the rest of
the blood. I set the container on the counter for later disposal. Now it's time to fix this
kid's hair. I shampoo it while trying to figure out how I'm going to make the spikes in his
hair just right. The picture will help some but I've never had to do spiking. Well, never let it
be said that I'm not up for a challenge.

I pick up the hair gel that the family supplied and start work. This of course is when the guy
and the girl end up coming in with Jeffery (damn that idiot) running in after them.

"Um... stop..." Jeff's out of breath and panting. "You can't..."

"Yes we can." The boy says. He reaches over and hold's the girl's hand.

I wipe my gelled hands on a rag nearby and walk over to them. I hold out my hand, not sure if
they'll take it. Some people have real problems with shaking the hand of someone who has touched
dead people. These two have no problems. I can respect that. "My name's Julie."

"I'm Tommy." He motions to the girl, "This is Lori."

"Nice to meet you both." I walk back over to the body and pull the sheet over it. "I'm afraid
that Jeff is right. You do have to leave."

A hand grips my forearm. I find it hard not to shiver with fear. "Please let go of me." I say in
my most civil, polite voice. God, I hope that he can't hear the shakiness in it.

"Please," He croaks out as if he throat is parched, "Please. Don't make us go." I look at him,
seeing the pain in his eyes. For a moment, there's a flicker of something... wrong. My heart
beat speeds up but I still know that no matter who his is, what

(it)

he is, I can't deny him his request.

"Fine." I turn to Jeff as Tommy lets go of my arm. "Jeff, leave them here with me."

"But..."

"But nothing," I cut him off. "Leave. Now."

Jeff scurries out and I am left with these two, one who are still in shock, the other who
appears to have gone a little crazy. Not the smartest move that I've ever made but not the
stupidest move either. I walk back towards the kid, Tommy and Lori trailing behind me like two
lost children. Gently, I pull the sheet back from his head, letting it rest around his next.
Lori gasps and Tommy... well, he grows.

"I'm sorry if that shocked you," I say, picking up the tube of hair gel and spreading it onto my
hands, "But I'm not quite done yet." I get to work on his hair, trying to re-create the spikes
from his picture.

There's a moment of silence and it's as if I'm alone again. That's when she speaks.

"You're doing it wrong." Her tone is sharp, slightly bitter but I know that it's just her way of
blowing off steam.

"Then show me how." I don't say these words as a joke or to be cruel. I say them with all the
honesty I can muster. Lori is nervous, shaking like a leaf, and yet she finds the strength to
step towards me. After wiping my hands with the rag, I hand her the tube of hair gel. She takes
it and begins spiking his hair.

I walk over to Tommy who is standing by the counter. He doesn't even look at me, just stares at
the container of blood. Realizing my mistake, I go to pick it up so I can get rid of it. Quicker
than my eyes can track, his arm shoots out, grabbing mine.

"Is it his?" He asks.

"Yes."

"There's so little," His voice is almost a whisper, "I thought that there would be more."

"There never is." He looks at me. "More I mean. Always seems like there should be more but..." I
shrug. How do you explain something you don't understand yourself.

His gaze is steady and unwavering. The stare of someone who has snapped. I slowly back away and
head back to Lori. She's finished the spiking and I have to admit that it looks better than
what I could have done. She seems better... I think being able to touch him, let her know that
what happened is real, has made her feel more at ease.

"Hey," I hand her the rag, "Nice work."

"Thanks." She wipes her hand and pauses. "Does... never mind."

"Never mind what?" I raise an eyebrow, "Don't feel embarrassed. If you have a question, just ask
me."

"Does it get any better," She looks at me, pain in her eyes, "Do you ever stop feeling the
pain."

This stops me. Do I lie to her, tell her that it goes away? Or do I tell her the truth. I turn
back.

"It never stops. It fades as time goes by." I know this isn't what she want to hear... but it's
the truth. "You'll always feel a little pain. But it's a good thing."

She nods. I wonder if she does understand what I'm saying.

As for Tommy. He's still staring at the kid's blood. It's time for me to dress the kid and now
matter how close they were to him, I can't do that with them in the room.

"You guys have to leave now," It breaks my heart to do this but... "It's against the rules to
have let you in here at all but what I've got to do now I've got to do alone." I walk up to
Tommy and set my hand on his shoulder, "He's in good hands. I won't let anymore harm come to
him."

Tommy turns slowly and looks at me. I feel a chill run up and down my spine. But I hold my
ground.

"Can I have..." He trails off.

"Have what?"

Tommy's eyes change and my heart speeds up. "His blood."

Oh god! I swallow and find myself speaking, "Um... yeah... I mean I don't use it or anything.
Here let me get you a container for it." Before I can reconsider what I'm doing, I grab the
first empty container from the cupboard and pour the blood into it. I hand the cottage cheese
container to Tommy. He sniffs it and then, with one final look at the kid, he walks out the
doors.

Lori walks over to me. "He's..." She pauses and thinks, "He blames himself for what happened."

I shake my head. "It wouldn't have made any difference. The kid was dying anyway."

"Dying?" I hear the shock in her voice. Turing towards Lori, I can see the shock in her eyes.

"Yeah," I nod. "He had cancer. I'm surprised no one found it before. Kid was pretty far along."

I look at the pale body lying on the steel table. This kid didn't have a chance at life.

But it doesn't matter in the end. We all end up the same.

Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.