TITLE: A Day in the Life of a Grim Reaper; Behind the Cloak and Sickle (Part1of30)
AUTHOR: trista
DISCLAIMER: these characters do not belong to me, they belong to MGM, Showtime, the creator of Dead Like me, and the actors who portray them, please don't sue me, not that I have any money or anything you'd want!
RATING: PG-13 (for language, but the kids these days…)CONTENT: Reggie/Millie friendship, Mason/George UST
SUMMARY: George, or should I say Millie has a convo with Reggie at a park, and since I couldn't write my first DLM story without a soul popping Mason and George have to take the souls of a couple, some strangeness ensues.
AUTHORS NOTES: there may be some illusions up to season one's "My room" I don't think there are any blatant spoilers. This is just something I whipped to together, if you wanna post it somewhere keep my name on it, tell me where it's going at rockchicktristasympatico.ca thnx
Jesus Christ it's ridiculous the lengths I have to go to get some quiet time. Once I got used being alone I really started to like it, and then hurricane Daisy happened, and I can't even be comfortable in my own home. I guess I could find a new little place, but dammit I like the place I have, I'm used to, and for fuck's sake I don't want another thing in my life to chance. Why can't I tell her that? Why? Why? Why?
So here I am in this little park that I loved to go to when I was a kid. I'm not really sure why my mom ever took me here, but after Reggie was born we never really came back. Its not like there is much to do here, a sandbox and some swings but I loved this place so much. I like here now cause no one ever comes here, maybe that's what I liked about it then, I don't know.
There's just something about swinging that makes you come back to your childhood, and somehow right now that is something that is making me feel better. Strange when I was alive, or whatever, I tried to avoid remembering my childhood, and now all I want to do is go back and ask my mother a million questions. But that'll never happen, God why did I think that I could go back? If only I had played my cards right, maybe somehow I could have them in my life again. I don't even want them as my family anymore. I just want to get to know them so that I can understand life again.
I stopped swinging a while ago, I've learned that when you get older you can't swing for so long without getting a feeling you're going to yak. Besides the idea of going over the bar is much more frightening now that it doesn't seem so impossible. I just have this picture of me falling on my head, and dying. Of course I can't die, but just the idea of falling on my head is not exactly appealing. Besides even if I did fall on my head I'd probably have wheel over to rooms in the hospital to pop souls or something.
Why is it that I've been sitting on a swing for half an hour, by myself? If anyone were around they would have had me committed by now thinking I was mental. Maybe I should bring a pen next time and pretend to write, or maybe I could actually write, keep a journal. I can just picture it now, "Life as a Grim Reaper, Behind the cloak and Sickle" by Georgia Lass, wait I'd probably have to use a penname cause Millie doesn't seem to be the type to keep a journal, plus I'm not really sure what Deloros would do if she found out I was a reaper.
Rube would probably pissed too, he never said I couldn't write a book. I'm sure somewhere in those rules of being a reaper that I never got to see its there "Reapers cannot write books, it would freak people out."
Just when I was starting to get comfortable. Well as comfortable as you can get with their ass going numb from sitting on a swing, I saw a little kid coming toward the swings. Well she wasn't really that little, Reggie's age. When I realized that was Reggie part of me wanted to bolt, cause I knew if Rube found out he'd flip. But it wasn't like I went to her, she's coming to the same place as I happen to be. I didn't plan it, I didn't even know she knew of this place. It's not like she'll even talk to me or anything, she doesn't even know me. She sat down on the swing next to me. Strange she'd pick that one when there were five others free, but I though nothing of it and went back to what I was doing, nothing.
"Hi," she said.
I was kind of surprised when I heard her speak. I had forgotten what her voice sounded like, not that I listened to her much when I had the chance. I couldn't figure out why she was talking to me, but I knew that even it was something fleeting at least this way I would have the chance to have a conversation with my sister.
"Uh, hi," I replied.
"Am I interrupting you or something?"
"No, I'm just, well sitting here."
"Why?"
"Cause I like to be alone."
"Oh…" Reggie stood up to leave.
I took her wrist, gently, hoping not to scare her. "You can stay, you were the little girl at the house where I went to return the Frankenfruity doll, aren't you?"
"Yeah, Joy would be pretty mad if she knew I was talking to you."
"You call her Joy is she your stepmother or something?"
"No, she's my mom. I just don't like her all that much."
"I didn't like my mother much when I was about your age. I regret it now though."
"You're like my sister's age, how can you have such a big regret?"
"I can't see my mom anymore, actually I can't really see all my family anymore."
"Oh, I'd be happy if I didn't have to see them."
"You don't know what you want until its taken away."
"Maybe. So what's your name anyway?"
"Everyone calls me Millie," I replied. It was still odd not telling people that my name was George, but I certainly couldn't tell Reggie of all people my real name. "What's your name?"
"Reggie."
I didn't know what to say to her then. She was my sister, and I had to address her like a stranger on the street. I wanted to tell her that I was her sister, hoping that somehow that would make her better, though I'm pretty sure that if someone like Millie said to her she was her sister she'd probably need even more therapy. I wanted to tell her that I was sorry that I never paid attention to her, and that even though I didn't really knew her I miss her. Most of all I didn't want her to turn into me, I wanted her to live. I didn't want her to never know what love was. I wanted her to know that her family does care about her.
So what if my parents had never intended for her to be a part of their lives. She was put in their lives for a reason, and I didn't want them to fail her as well. She needed them more then I had. But what was I supposed to say to her. She's a kid, I can't tell her the truth, and yet when she looked at me it was almost as if she could see something in me that was different from anyone she knew.
I had to think of something to say to her, I didn't want her to leave. "So you said you have a sister, what's her name?"
"George, but she's dead."
"Oh, I'm sorry."
Isn't there a better word in the English language then "sorry" when someone looses someone. "Sorry" is something you say when you step on someone's foot, or accidentally drop paint on them. There should be another word you can say to someone who is dealing with the pain of loosing a family member or friend. Something more then sorry is something that a graveling should say when he drops a piano, or a sign, or a toilet seat on your head.
Before I knew what was going on my mouth opened and began to talk. "Seems like a pretty stupid word to be saying at a time like this don't you think?"
She laughed. "Yeah it is, sorry is something you say when you get caught doing something you shouldn't, and you feel bad. Or you make a mistake like kicking them, or calling them the wrong name, or something that people should say when then call you a name."
"Yeah, I know how you feel. You'd think with all the thousands of words people have made up over the years they'd think up something a little more then sorry when it comes to something big."
"People are just stupid I guess."
What was a seven year old thinking like that for? "You're pretty young to be so jaded."
"You'd be jaded too if no one in your family liked you."
"Maybe they do like you, they just don't understand you. That's what it was like with my little sister. It's not that I didn't like her, it's just that I never got to know her. I know I should have, but when she first came home I was mad at my mom for having to pay so much attention to her when I needed her. Then after a few years its hard to get out of that mind frame. You know what I mean?"
"I think so, but it still doesn't make it right."
"No, it doesn't, but everyone only thinks of themselves, they don't see how their actions effect people around them. It's a ripple effect." Fuck I was sounding like Rube, but I think she was starting to understand what I was telling her, and a few things Rube has told me along the way.
"I understand what you mean completely. What was your sister like?"
"To be honest I have no idea, and that pisses me off, a lot. I mean I had seven years to get to know her, and I didn't, and now that I want to I can't."
"I wanted to be just like my sister. I don't know why, cause she wasn't very nice to me, but she seemed pretty happy, and really cool."
"Really!" Shit I almost blew my cover. "Sorry, you just remind me of her, and I'm reacting the way I would have if she had told me that I was cool." This lying thing gets confusing after a while. Although I wasn't really lying, other then saying that Reggie isn't my sister. Which she isn't because I'm Millie, not George.
"It's all right, you kind of remind me of my sister."
"Funny how the universe works sometimes, but I need to get going, it was nice talking to you, Reggie." I could almost see Betty saying something like that to someone just before she popped their soul. A part of me still misses her, I think I always will.
"Nice talking to you too, Millie, maybe we'll see each other again?"
"I'm here a lot, maybe we'll run into each other again."
She nodded, and I knew that somehow Millie and Reggie would somehow be closer the George and Reggie would ever be. I just hoped there wouldn't be repercussions for this too. I'm not trying to get my old life back, I'm trying to get a new life, and I'm trying to help my little sister. If I had to be undead I wanted to make the most of it. I looked down at the yellow post it note in my hand. Strange that the soul I needed to take today was right near somewhere that I love to hang out. I looked at ETD, and I still had ten minutes before the M. LaBelle. When I looked at the location again, I realized that this poor guy was going to die in his apartment, which sucks for him cause I can't pick a lock to save my life. Where's Mason when you need him.
"What are you doin' here?" I heard a familiar voice with a nice accent say.
Oh, Mason, dear Mason, I could kiss your lock picking ass right about now. "What do you think I'm doing here? I just like to fucking stand around shittier buildings then mine wondering if maybe this is what I would have to stoop to to get away from Daisy." Not exactly the way to charm a guy into picking a lock for you.
He laughed, of course. "Bitter little bugger today aren't we?"
I smiled. "So where are you headed."
"Apparently T. LaBelle is set to die in apartment 53-" He looked at his watch.
I cut him off. "In nine minutes now."
"Yeah, that's it! Seems that we're a team today George."
"Great, so any thoughts on how we might get into the apartment?"
"Well, if it's at a party that these two or going to die then we just waltz right in and act casual. If we don't hear any strange sounds I will pick the lock and assume they are dead, and take their souls. If we here cop needed noises, we walk ourselves back down here and wait till the medics drag them past."
"And then what?"
"Well first lets see which of the scenarios we have, let's not get too ahead of ourselves."
I rolled my eyes. He grabbed my hand and we followed another guy into the building when he opened the door. He looked at us suspiciously.
"Hey, mate," Mason said. "My girl and I are thinking about moving in here, all we can afford with our parents kicking us out, you know how it is, and we like to see a little bit before we rush into things." "Wish I'd done that," the guys said. "Let me give you a word of advise anywhere is better then here."
"Thanks, but we like to find out for ourselves don't we honey?" He wrapped his arm around my shoulder .
"Yeah," I said unsure of myself. If he kisses me I swear to god he will not know what hit him, we walked down the hall and he let go of me. "You're too good at this, you know that?"
"I've been doin' this too long. Well here we are!"
"You fucking slut!!" we heard a male voice scream.
"These walls don't give much privacy do they?" I asked, not even realizing till after that I had lowered my voice from before.
"Yeah, I think it's a fair bet to say that these two love birds are going to kill themselves."
I nodded, "lets take off before we somehow get involved."
"Good plan."
The guy from before was at his door. "They're always like, they're not the scariest thing in the building!" He called to them as they existed the building.
"So now what?" I asked.
"Well first we wait for cops, I'd say across the street, then when we see them we get a little closer, then when we see an ambulance we get closer to the building, maybe act like a couple. See what happens and hope to hell we get the right people, cause it'll look a lot odd if we both touch both bodies."
"Yeah, I'd imagine."
"I've had it happen once, you know?"
"What happen?"
"That I was with someone else, and in front of all these people we both had to go over to each body and see who had which soul. We got the wrong one and ended up both patting these two people on the shoulder and then walking away. The cops were yelling at us or something but we just kept walking with these people who had no clue what had just happened. They were banging up against a window and the screen broke, and they fell or some shit, how embarrassing."
What a way to go, I swear the people in this division had seen it all. We walked across the street, Reggie seemed to have gone, and we sat down on the lawn at the park. Mason and I didn't really do the small talk thing much anymore. I don't really know why, we get along when we're forced to be together, but I never have the urge to do anything with at any other time. Though he has been hanging out at my apartment more since Daisy's been there. The guy just don't take a hint, she's not interested in him.
She likes the clean cut, pretty-boy types, and that most certainly isn't Mason. I'd put him as a bad-boy, but that doesn't seem right, more like a starving artist. Almost a rock star-boy, yeah I could totally see Mason on MTV smashing his guitar.
"What are you thinking?" he asked all of a sudden.
"Nothing," I lied.
"Strange, I can never stop thinking. I try to, but there's always this annoying little voice babbling on and on in my head. It usually doesn't even say anything useful. Certainly didn't say anything to stop me the day I died. That was pretty stupid, don't you think? You'd think that voice in your head would tell you that this is a bad idea and to just stop it."
"You would think that wouldn't you?"
"Makes you think don't it? I'm getting a headache."
"So what were you thinking about, before started thinking about thinking?"
"About how I'm not really a breast man, and I wonder if that makes me gay."
"Mason you're not gay."
"Well how do you know?"
"The way you've been lusting after Daisy may be one indication."
"Maybe you're right. I hear sirens."
"Well they were supposed to die about three minutes ago."
We watched the scene play out across the street, a couple minutes after the cop car pulled up an ambulance pulled, what a surprise. So we walked back across the street, and Mason placed us right in front of the doorway, where we would sure to be in the way. He put his arm around my waist, and all of a sudden we were making out. A few moments later we were interrupted when two very angry paramedics asked us to move as they wheeled to stretchers out of the building.
Quiet the crowd had gathered, as we separated, and I touched the first guy's foot, making it look as if I had tripped over my own foot by mistake and took his soul. I was glad that some higher power had at least let me get the right guy. He put his arm around my waist, and two very confused souls followed us to the park across the street.
"What the hell is going on!?" asked the man.
"Well," said Mason. "You're dead."
He had a way with telling people that, so, blunt. "We don't need to tell you how it happened," I said.
"So who the hell are you!?" the man demanded.
"We're grim reapers, we're here to help you to your final destination."
"Where are you cloaks?"
"Do we look like a cliché?" I asked.
"So what now?"
"Well you have to move on."
"I'm dead that's great can I move on now?" asked the woman, breaking her silence.
"Well you have to wait, you'll know when its time," I explained.
"Am I going to hell for killing her?" the man asked.
"I don't know, I'm just a messenger," we both said at the same time.
Just then a strange looking heart shaped, I don't know what the fuck it was appeared in front of us, and the two of them, who had joined hands, and walked into it together. Go figure some people, I just don't get it, the guy kills her, and then himself to not get any jail time and they decide they want to spend whatever comes next together.
So now, here I am in bed, replaying the day. What a day! That whole thing with the chick leaving with the guy that killed her is odd, but I've been told that love is blind, and apparently stupid. But that's not what's really getting to me it was that after all that Mason just said "we'll do that again all right, sweetie?" and walked away. Sweetie, why the hell would Mason call me sweetie? The whole thing with Reggie then pops into my head, and it just becomes a vicious circle, and I can't sleep cause I can't turn my brain off. What the hell is going to happen tomorrow. I hate my afterlife.
End
end notes: this is open to a sequel feedback will determine if it happens, I have some ideas, so tell me what you think, I can take criticism as long as you backup your opinion trista, the dustytiger
AUTHOR: trista
DISCLAIMER: these characters do not belong to me, they belong to MGM, Showtime, the creator of Dead Like me, and the actors who portray them, please don't sue me, not that I have any money or anything you'd want!
RATING: PG-13 (for language, but the kids these days…)CONTENT: Reggie/Millie friendship, Mason/George UST
SUMMARY: George, or should I say Millie has a convo with Reggie at a park, and since I couldn't write my first DLM story without a soul popping Mason and George have to take the souls of a couple, some strangeness ensues.
AUTHORS NOTES: there may be some illusions up to season one's "My room" I don't think there are any blatant spoilers. This is just something I whipped to together, if you wanna post it somewhere keep my name on it, tell me where it's going at rockchicktristasympatico.ca thnx
Jesus Christ it's ridiculous the lengths I have to go to get some quiet time. Once I got used being alone I really started to like it, and then hurricane Daisy happened, and I can't even be comfortable in my own home. I guess I could find a new little place, but dammit I like the place I have, I'm used to, and for fuck's sake I don't want another thing in my life to chance. Why can't I tell her that? Why? Why? Why?
So here I am in this little park that I loved to go to when I was a kid. I'm not really sure why my mom ever took me here, but after Reggie was born we never really came back. Its not like there is much to do here, a sandbox and some swings but I loved this place so much. I like here now cause no one ever comes here, maybe that's what I liked about it then, I don't know.
There's just something about swinging that makes you come back to your childhood, and somehow right now that is something that is making me feel better. Strange when I was alive, or whatever, I tried to avoid remembering my childhood, and now all I want to do is go back and ask my mother a million questions. But that'll never happen, God why did I think that I could go back? If only I had played my cards right, maybe somehow I could have them in my life again. I don't even want them as my family anymore. I just want to get to know them so that I can understand life again.
I stopped swinging a while ago, I've learned that when you get older you can't swing for so long without getting a feeling you're going to yak. Besides the idea of going over the bar is much more frightening now that it doesn't seem so impossible. I just have this picture of me falling on my head, and dying. Of course I can't die, but just the idea of falling on my head is not exactly appealing. Besides even if I did fall on my head I'd probably have wheel over to rooms in the hospital to pop souls or something.
Why is it that I've been sitting on a swing for half an hour, by myself? If anyone were around they would have had me committed by now thinking I was mental. Maybe I should bring a pen next time and pretend to write, or maybe I could actually write, keep a journal. I can just picture it now, "Life as a Grim Reaper, Behind the cloak and Sickle" by Georgia Lass, wait I'd probably have to use a penname cause Millie doesn't seem to be the type to keep a journal, plus I'm not really sure what Deloros would do if she found out I was a reaper.
Rube would probably pissed too, he never said I couldn't write a book. I'm sure somewhere in those rules of being a reaper that I never got to see its there "Reapers cannot write books, it would freak people out."
Just when I was starting to get comfortable. Well as comfortable as you can get with their ass going numb from sitting on a swing, I saw a little kid coming toward the swings. Well she wasn't really that little, Reggie's age. When I realized that was Reggie part of me wanted to bolt, cause I knew if Rube found out he'd flip. But it wasn't like I went to her, she's coming to the same place as I happen to be. I didn't plan it, I didn't even know she knew of this place. It's not like she'll even talk to me or anything, she doesn't even know me. She sat down on the swing next to me. Strange she'd pick that one when there were five others free, but I though nothing of it and went back to what I was doing, nothing.
"Hi," she said.
I was kind of surprised when I heard her speak. I had forgotten what her voice sounded like, not that I listened to her much when I had the chance. I couldn't figure out why she was talking to me, but I knew that even it was something fleeting at least this way I would have the chance to have a conversation with my sister.
"Uh, hi," I replied.
"Am I interrupting you or something?"
"No, I'm just, well sitting here."
"Why?"
"Cause I like to be alone."
"Oh…" Reggie stood up to leave.
I took her wrist, gently, hoping not to scare her. "You can stay, you were the little girl at the house where I went to return the Frankenfruity doll, aren't you?"
"Yeah, Joy would be pretty mad if she knew I was talking to you."
"You call her Joy is she your stepmother or something?"
"No, she's my mom. I just don't like her all that much."
"I didn't like my mother much when I was about your age. I regret it now though."
"You're like my sister's age, how can you have such a big regret?"
"I can't see my mom anymore, actually I can't really see all my family anymore."
"Oh, I'd be happy if I didn't have to see them."
"You don't know what you want until its taken away."
"Maybe. So what's your name anyway?"
"Everyone calls me Millie," I replied. It was still odd not telling people that my name was George, but I certainly couldn't tell Reggie of all people my real name. "What's your name?"
"Reggie."
I didn't know what to say to her then. She was my sister, and I had to address her like a stranger on the street. I wanted to tell her that I was her sister, hoping that somehow that would make her better, though I'm pretty sure that if someone like Millie said to her she was her sister she'd probably need even more therapy. I wanted to tell her that I was sorry that I never paid attention to her, and that even though I didn't really knew her I miss her. Most of all I didn't want her to turn into me, I wanted her to live. I didn't want her to never know what love was. I wanted her to know that her family does care about her.
So what if my parents had never intended for her to be a part of their lives. She was put in their lives for a reason, and I didn't want them to fail her as well. She needed them more then I had. But what was I supposed to say to her. She's a kid, I can't tell her the truth, and yet when she looked at me it was almost as if she could see something in me that was different from anyone she knew.
I had to think of something to say to her, I didn't want her to leave. "So you said you have a sister, what's her name?"
"George, but she's dead."
"Oh, I'm sorry."
Isn't there a better word in the English language then "sorry" when someone looses someone. "Sorry" is something you say when you step on someone's foot, or accidentally drop paint on them. There should be another word you can say to someone who is dealing with the pain of loosing a family member or friend. Something more then sorry is something that a graveling should say when he drops a piano, or a sign, or a toilet seat on your head.
Before I knew what was going on my mouth opened and began to talk. "Seems like a pretty stupid word to be saying at a time like this don't you think?"
She laughed. "Yeah it is, sorry is something you say when you get caught doing something you shouldn't, and you feel bad. Or you make a mistake like kicking them, or calling them the wrong name, or something that people should say when then call you a name."
"Yeah, I know how you feel. You'd think with all the thousands of words people have made up over the years they'd think up something a little more then sorry when it comes to something big."
"People are just stupid I guess."
What was a seven year old thinking like that for? "You're pretty young to be so jaded."
"You'd be jaded too if no one in your family liked you."
"Maybe they do like you, they just don't understand you. That's what it was like with my little sister. It's not that I didn't like her, it's just that I never got to know her. I know I should have, but when she first came home I was mad at my mom for having to pay so much attention to her when I needed her. Then after a few years its hard to get out of that mind frame. You know what I mean?"
"I think so, but it still doesn't make it right."
"No, it doesn't, but everyone only thinks of themselves, they don't see how their actions effect people around them. It's a ripple effect." Fuck I was sounding like Rube, but I think she was starting to understand what I was telling her, and a few things Rube has told me along the way.
"I understand what you mean completely. What was your sister like?"
"To be honest I have no idea, and that pisses me off, a lot. I mean I had seven years to get to know her, and I didn't, and now that I want to I can't."
"I wanted to be just like my sister. I don't know why, cause she wasn't very nice to me, but she seemed pretty happy, and really cool."
"Really!" Shit I almost blew my cover. "Sorry, you just remind me of her, and I'm reacting the way I would have if she had told me that I was cool." This lying thing gets confusing after a while. Although I wasn't really lying, other then saying that Reggie isn't my sister. Which she isn't because I'm Millie, not George.
"It's all right, you kind of remind me of my sister."
"Funny how the universe works sometimes, but I need to get going, it was nice talking to you, Reggie." I could almost see Betty saying something like that to someone just before she popped their soul. A part of me still misses her, I think I always will.
"Nice talking to you too, Millie, maybe we'll see each other again?"
"I'm here a lot, maybe we'll run into each other again."
She nodded, and I knew that somehow Millie and Reggie would somehow be closer the George and Reggie would ever be. I just hoped there wouldn't be repercussions for this too. I'm not trying to get my old life back, I'm trying to get a new life, and I'm trying to help my little sister. If I had to be undead I wanted to make the most of it. I looked down at the yellow post it note in my hand. Strange that the soul I needed to take today was right near somewhere that I love to hang out. I looked at ETD, and I still had ten minutes before the M. LaBelle. When I looked at the location again, I realized that this poor guy was going to die in his apartment, which sucks for him cause I can't pick a lock to save my life. Where's Mason when you need him.
"What are you doin' here?" I heard a familiar voice with a nice accent say.
Oh, Mason, dear Mason, I could kiss your lock picking ass right about now. "What do you think I'm doing here? I just like to fucking stand around shittier buildings then mine wondering if maybe this is what I would have to stoop to to get away from Daisy." Not exactly the way to charm a guy into picking a lock for you.
He laughed, of course. "Bitter little bugger today aren't we?"
I smiled. "So where are you headed."
"Apparently T. LaBelle is set to die in apartment 53-" He looked at his watch.
I cut him off. "In nine minutes now."
"Yeah, that's it! Seems that we're a team today George."
"Great, so any thoughts on how we might get into the apartment?"
"Well, if it's at a party that these two or going to die then we just waltz right in and act casual. If we don't hear any strange sounds I will pick the lock and assume they are dead, and take their souls. If we here cop needed noises, we walk ourselves back down here and wait till the medics drag them past."
"And then what?"
"Well first lets see which of the scenarios we have, let's not get too ahead of ourselves."
I rolled my eyes. He grabbed my hand and we followed another guy into the building when he opened the door. He looked at us suspiciously.
"Hey, mate," Mason said. "My girl and I are thinking about moving in here, all we can afford with our parents kicking us out, you know how it is, and we like to see a little bit before we rush into things." "Wish I'd done that," the guys said. "Let me give you a word of advise anywhere is better then here."
"Thanks, but we like to find out for ourselves don't we honey?" He wrapped his arm around my shoulder .
"Yeah," I said unsure of myself. If he kisses me I swear to god he will not know what hit him, we walked down the hall and he let go of me. "You're too good at this, you know that?"
"I've been doin' this too long. Well here we are!"
"You fucking slut!!" we heard a male voice scream.
"These walls don't give much privacy do they?" I asked, not even realizing till after that I had lowered my voice from before.
"Yeah, I think it's a fair bet to say that these two love birds are going to kill themselves."
I nodded, "lets take off before we somehow get involved."
"Good plan."
The guy from before was at his door. "They're always like, they're not the scariest thing in the building!" He called to them as they existed the building.
"So now what?" I asked.
"Well first we wait for cops, I'd say across the street, then when we see them we get a little closer, then when we see an ambulance we get closer to the building, maybe act like a couple. See what happens and hope to hell we get the right people, cause it'll look a lot odd if we both touch both bodies."
"Yeah, I'd imagine."
"I've had it happen once, you know?"
"What happen?"
"That I was with someone else, and in front of all these people we both had to go over to each body and see who had which soul. We got the wrong one and ended up both patting these two people on the shoulder and then walking away. The cops were yelling at us or something but we just kept walking with these people who had no clue what had just happened. They were banging up against a window and the screen broke, and they fell or some shit, how embarrassing."
What a way to go, I swear the people in this division had seen it all. We walked across the street, Reggie seemed to have gone, and we sat down on the lawn at the park. Mason and I didn't really do the small talk thing much anymore. I don't really know why, we get along when we're forced to be together, but I never have the urge to do anything with at any other time. Though he has been hanging out at my apartment more since Daisy's been there. The guy just don't take a hint, she's not interested in him.
She likes the clean cut, pretty-boy types, and that most certainly isn't Mason. I'd put him as a bad-boy, but that doesn't seem right, more like a starving artist. Almost a rock star-boy, yeah I could totally see Mason on MTV smashing his guitar.
"What are you thinking?" he asked all of a sudden.
"Nothing," I lied.
"Strange, I can never stop thinking. I try to, but there's always this annoying little voice babbling on and on in my head. It usually doesn't even say anything useful. Certainly didn't say anything to stop me the day I died. That was pretty stupid, don't you think? You'd think that voice in your head would tell you that this is a bad idea and to just stop it."
"You would think that wouldn't you?"
"Makes you think don't it? I'm getting a headache."
"So what were you thinking about, before started thinking about thinking?"
"About how I'm not really a breast man, and I wonder if that makes me gay."
"Mason you're not gay."
"Well how do you know?"
"The way you've been lusting after Daisy may be one indication."
"Maybe you're right. I hear sirens."
"Well they were supposed to die about three minutes ago."
We watched the scene play out across the street, a couple minutes after the cop car pulled up an ambulance pulled, what a surprise. So we walked back across the street, and Mason placed us right in front of the doorway, where we would sure to be in the way. He put his arm around my waist, and all of a sudden we were making out. A few moments later we were interrupted when two very angry paramedics asked us to move as they wheeled to stretchers out of the building.
Quiet the crowd had gathered, as we separated, and I touched the first guy's foot, making it look as if I had tripped over my own foot by mistake and took his soul. I was glad that some higher power had at least let me get the right guy. He put his arm around my waist, and two very confused souls followed us to the park across the street.
"What the hell is going on!?" asked the man.
"Well," said Mason. "You're dead."
He had a way with telling people that, so, blunt. "We don't need to tell you how it happened," I said.
"So who the hell are you!?" the man demanded.
"We're grim reapers, we're here to help you to your final destination."
"Where are you cloaks?"
"Do we look like a cliché?" I asked.
"So what now?"
"Well you have to move on."
"I'm dead that's great can I move on now?" asked the woman, breaking her silence.
"Well you have to wait, you'll know when its time," I explained.
"Am I going to hell for killing her?" the man asked.
"I don't know, I'm just a messenger," we both said at the same time.
Just then a strange looking heart shaped, I don't know what the fuck it was appeared in front of us, and the two of them, who had joined hands, and walked into it together. Go figure some people, I just don't get it, the guy kills her, and then himself to not get any jail time and they decide they want to spend whatever comes next together.
So now, here I am in bed, replaying the day. What a day! That whole thing with the chick leaving with the guy that killed her is odd, but I've been told that love is blind, and apparently stupid. But that's not what's really getting to me it was that after all that Mason just said "we'll do that again all right, sweetie?" and walked away. Sweetie, why the hell would Mason call me sweetie? The whole thing with Reggie then pops into my head, and it just becomes a vicious circle, and I can't sleep cause I can't turn my brain off. What the hell is going to happen tomorrow. I hate my afterlife.
End
end notes: this is open to a sequel feedback will determine if it happens, I have some ideas, so tell me what you think, I can take criticism as long as you backup your opinion trista, the dustytiger