They say that when you die, there's a white light, or glow leading you to wherever it is your supposed to go. Yeah I never believed that bull either. Especially when I knew where I was going, and it certainly wouldn't involve a white light leading the way. The only thing I could remember was angels don't like to cry, like that was supposed to mean something to me. Next thing I know I'm confined to a box no bigger than most New York apartment's. "A coffin, great as if it wasn't bad enough" thank fully I had been dead awhile, so the ground was moist making it easier to claw my way out. It was raining; of course it had to be raining. My legs felt like they hadn't been used for centuries, I kept wobbling like a drunken baby elephant, which is if elephant's got drunk as often as I did. Now more than likely you've never had the pleasure of looking upon you own tombstone, let me tell you when you see your name imprinted on a giant slab of stone you look at things in a different light. And there it was Daniel .M Snyder Born 11-27-1978 died 12-22-2003. "Dead? I certainly don't feel dead." And as if on q in there stepped a saintly crow. Pecking at the enamel that was to be my home. "I don't suppose you want a cracker eh Polly" the bird just stared at me with eyes only curious George himself could do justice. "Caw" was all she wrote. "Caw? I just pull a night of the living dead and caw is the welcome I get? Yeah great sense of humor!...asshole". Same blank stare. "so what fire and brimstone, the wrath of the almighty I presume" no caw this time, no blank stare in fact if I were to guess what the bird was doing, I'd say it was smiling. It flew off to a lamppost a few yards away. "What you want me to follow you?" the bird still perched on the lamppost squawked impatiently. "Okay, okay but if your leading me on a wild goose chase Polly, I swear ill eat your unborn children's brain's" I laughed at the joke no one else would get. After a few blocks I was standing outside my old apartment complex. Well what was left after it was torched. "What are we doing here" the bird pecked at the open door. "Look I lived it once I'm not in a hurry to remember it all this quick" But memories have a way of sneaking up on you. I saw it in the back of my mind somewhere, in the back where I keep all those bad thoughts, in the back where you keep those memories that make you feel insignificant about everything, in the back where you keep your worst childhood fears, In the back with all those things you would like to forget but keep tearing at your brain every night before you go to sleep. Three of them. Scarecrow, Jonesy, and Hector. "I don't want to do this" The bird gave me a look like "Your fucking joking" I stayed quite. I pushed aside the door and stepped in to the rubble that was my late life. "I always hated that table". I said as I caught a glance at the ceramic tile of the table Edith had bought at Ikea last summer. "I told her that it was too big for the dining room but she wouldn't listen...She never listened". I kept silent for a minute or two, choking back the tears that were still lodged in my throat. "What am I doing here? What possible reason could there be for me to be standing here wasting my time reminding myself of what happened here, and how stupid I feel for not doing a damn thing about it." The crow just bobbed his head. "Good so we have some sort of common ground" The crow perched itself on the remnants of a charred vanity. "CAW" I shot him a look. "Whatever's in there is more than likely burnt to a cinder bird" the crow swooped down on an open drawer "CAW" giving in I paced over to the vanity and opened the drawer slightly "See burnt to a cinder" the crow began pecking at the ashes "What is it?" Already knowing the answer. "Her engagement ring" this time the tears welded up on the corners of my eyes "She thought I was drinking my pay checks away while I was saving up for it" The crow perched on my right shoulder and cooed lightly "I don't need sympathy, especially from you, don't forget I didn't choose to do this, that whole angels don't like to cry bullshit your people feed me, I don't care what the rules are about suffering up there ok, I'm here to do a job and get back to my Edith" The bird flew to one of the ceiling post "Caw" I shot him the dirtiest look I could. "Yeah I know, Let's get it done".
First thing I had to do was get some clothes the ripped up funeral home look was out, and honestly I was nipping bad. Lucky for me my old Docks where still lying around in one of the closets least touched by the fire, along with a set of dirty levis, and my favorite black turtle neck, Along with my old navy pea coat. I still looked like shit but it was an improvement. "So what now" The bird was silent, watching me. "Ok look my beef isn't with you, seriously I mean yeah I do appreciate me getting a crack at finding those monsters that did this to us, but all I'm saying is I'm sure your used to this sort of thing, but I sure the hell am not so just take it easy the vengeance will come soon enough" It seemed to understand and perched on my shoulder again. "Alright lead the way.