This is how it goes

My eyes opened and at first I couldn't comprehend where I was until the sight of roses and lilies brought me back to reality. Sighing, I sat up and rubbed my eyes mainly out of habit and rolled out of the creaky bed. There were no bathrooms (obviously being dead who would need them?) so I skipped the usual morning routines and went straight to picking up the bouquets. I filled my arms with as many bouquets as I can carry and proceeded down the squeaky stairs. Where was I supposed to put all these? I'm pretty sure this grave didn't come with cabinets full of vases for this specific reason. I walked down the hallway and noticed in the light the wall paper was very old fashion; a faded red that looks maroon lined with an even darker red pattern of dainty flowers. Cobwebs coated every corner of the house and instead of regular lights with light bulbs there were oil lanterns mounted on the wall.

"How old is this place? If I was just buried yesterday why is everything so old fashion?" I asked myself as I carried the flowers into the living room. The sofas, I noticed, untastefully matched the wallpaper and the outdated fire place was an ugly line of red bricks. Two dusted, gold, candelabras were placed on top of the mantel of the fireplace and that's when I saw myself reflected in the mirror for the first time since I woke up. I marched over to the mirror and gaped at what I saw.

My skin was pale blue like everyone else's and my eyes lacked the shimmer of light it once held. My brown hair wasn't shiny anymore and hung in limp waves instead of the pretty curls I once loved so much. Setting the flowers down on the arm chair, I decided to do a full autopsy on myself just to see how what has become of me. My jacket was wrinkled and stained by dark brown patches where the stab wounds were. The most blood had come from the wound in my stomach, where the cheap switch blade was currently embedded. My curiosity sparked once again when I grabbed the small handle and yanked it out from my stiff flesh. I didn't feel anything for a while and was about to place it on the mantel when the anxiousness began to grow inside me. I tried to ignore it and set the blade down so I could walk away but the emptiness kept gnawing at me. I couldn't take it anymore and with a growl of annoyance I spun around on my heel and walked back to the fire place and yanked the blade off.

"This is bullshit. Why do I have to keep this damn thing in to remind me how it all came to this?" I shoved the switch black back into my stomach and grabbed the piles of flowers. I already knew what I wanted to do with these. I didn't want to be reminded I was dead and people said their good byes to me when I wasn't even ready to say good bye to my life. I walked out of the house and tossed them into the yard of dead grass. After about 20 minutes of walking back and forth from my room to the yard dumping flowers I finally finished and returned to my room to sort out the photos and letters.

Once my room was cleared of the bouquets I had noticed I had a wooden writing desk pushed against the window complete with paper and quills tucked into a shelf. What I found really odd was the black telephone sitting on the desk for who do I call in this place? Death was weird and after I was done reading these letters I plan on going back to the Nail n' Coffin to learn more about this after life.

The rest of the letters weren't as sad as I thought it was going to be. My brother Jake had sounded upset but he still kept up that humorous tone he held through hard times and for that I really appreciated. It must have been so hard for him this whole time and it made me incredibly happy to know he was being strong this whole time. I wish I could have left him something or told him I loved him one last time but I couldn't think like that. I would drive myself mad thinking of all the things I could have done or said before I died. Jake had also mentioned that dad didn't write a letter for he was having a more difficult time coping with my death and hasn't said anything for days before the burial. The only time he spoke was with the police and that was all.

"Aw dad. You gotta come out of this. I wish I could tell you I'm fine…" Of course in reality I wasn't fine. How could anyone be ok with having your life being taken from you? I did nothing wrong to the man who killed me and he toke it upon himself to end my life as if it were up to him. Was this how it was supposed to be for me since the beginning? To live and work hard expecting my dreams to come true someday only to have it cut short in the blink of an eye by some lowly thief? I got to my feet in frustration and decided to head to the bar so I can get some answers.

I closed the wooden door behind me and locked it with the skeleton key before I toke off down the stone road towards the Nail n' Coffin. Now that I have adjusted a bit better I noticed the graves around me were all buildings with different architectures. There were shops selling the oddest things such as body parts and eye balls along with teeth. It was a bit morbid to look at but so was looking into the mirror to see myself as a corpse. Go figure. As I continued down the road I saw more shops selling clothes that looked like it came from the 70's or 50's and plastic jewelry. Another shop I passed sold a variety of poisons and plants that were just as deadly as the contents in the bottles.

Once I reached the bar I pushed open the wooden doors and jumped in surprise when the sound of laughter erupted from the crowds of corpses drinking and having a good time. The place was crowded and I tried excusing myself as best as possible to get to the counter where I would hopefully find Margie. The counter was crowded with people ordering drinks and chatting; I had to shove my way in between two people.

"Margie!?" I called.

"She's in the back if you're looking for her." A different bar tender said, not even looking up at me.

I nodded and un-sandwiched myself from the two people I was stuck in between. After making my way through the crowds around the counter I saw swinging double doors that said 'kitchen' above so I immediately pushed open the doors and walked inside. What a relief! I wasn't an anxious person when it came to crowds but being surrounded by morbid looking dead people is still something I had to get used to. I just gotta make sure no one knows about that or I might sound like a racist or something. Looking around the kitchen that was bustling with a few cooks and waiters, I carefully made my way through and kept my eyes peeled for any sign of Margie.

"Excuse me?" I asked a waiter as he walked by.

"Yeah?" He said.

"Is Margie back here?"

"Her office is over there. Knock before going in." With that he walked on carrying what looked like rotten dead fish with its bones sticking out. Thank goodness we didn't have to eat anything otherwise id starve myself just to prevent eating THAT.

I reached the black door and knocked a few times, "Margie? It's me Claudia, may I come in?"

"Yes!" I heard from the inside. I opened the door cautiously and stepped in to see the short woman sitting at her desk and on the phone. She gestured to me to keep quiet and take the seat before her. I sat down and watched her listen intently on the phone as her expressions changed from biting her lip to softly smiling and nodding. It wasn't long before she finally set the phone down without saying anything.

"How are you feeling dear? Adjusting a bit better?" Margie said.

"Um…a little but not so much. Who was that on the phone if you don't mind me asking? I noticed I have one at my grave but I don't see any use for it."

Margie smiled as she leaned back in her chair, "Have a few questions ready to be answered, do we?"

I sighed, "Yes. As much as I want to avoid the reality of this it's eating at me to know what happens now and how all this works."

Margie nodded in understanding and began, "Well let's start with the telephones. Have you noticed there are no numbers on them?"

Confused, I leaned in to the see the old dark telephone with the rolling dials. She was right, there were no numbers to pick and choose from as if it were made like this. "I don't get it?"

"These phones aren't meant to call one another down here. It's for the living to call us."

"WHAT?!"

"Now calm down it's not what you think. When your family comes to visit your grave the telephone at your grave will ring and lets you listen to whatever they have to say or pray."

My hopes diminished and I kicked myself for thinking it was possible to talk to my family again. If I couldn't do it when I was alive what makes me think it can work like that now?

"I guess that makes sense."

"Next question, shall we?" Margie smiled kindly as she opened the drawer from her desk and pulled out two small glasses. She began to pour poison into the glasses and offered one to me. Hesitantly, I took it and swirled the contents in my glass around trying to see what kind of poison this was.

"It's ricin, strong stuff but not the worst I can tell you that."

I nodded and sighed as I threw the glass back and downed the poison. It stung but didn't hurt, "Right, um, so my next question is this. What happens now? What do I do with my time here?"

"That entirely up to you darling."

"That doesn't really answer my question."

"There's many answers to that. You can go on wallowing in self-pity, secluded to your grave, and squeezing every last tear you can shed for yourself. Or," Margie stood up and walked around the desk to sit beside me in the other chair, "you can move on and accept this afterlife. Find a job, make new friends, listen to whoever comes to visit your grave, and finding happiness for yourself just like you did in life."

I looked down at my hands and fiddled with the glass in them. It did make sense. Death wasn't as scary as I thought, it was just like above but the opposite. There was no hate, fear, or crime and everyone seemed happier by the looks of it. But I still couldn't shake the anger I had towards my murderer, the one who took me away from my dreams and my family.

"I know it's harder for you dear. You were at the prime of your life, young and free and I'm sure many dreams you wished to achieve."

"I did. I was in college and worked at a Chinese restaurant as a waitress. I have…had a lot of friends I would always hang out with. On Sundays I would visit my family and we would have cook outs. My brother Jake and I would play video games in his room for hours. I also had a dog named Douglas, a cute little beagle and I hope my parents took him in for me."

"What did you want to be in life Claudia? I hope it wasn't a doctor cause we don't need those down here." Margie chuckled.

I chuckled as well, "No. It's kind of silly but I studied theatre and wanted to move to New York and become an actress, maybe sing in Broadway. That's all I have ever wanted to do."

"Ah a singer? Well we may not be Broadway here darling but the Nail n' Coffin could always use some new entertainment, what do you say?" Margie smiled.

"You want me to sing here? There's no pay?"

Margie laughed, "There's no use for money down here Claudia. But it give you something to do and look forward to, does it not?"

I nodded in agreement, "I guess your right in that aspect. Ok, I will give it a go. Ill sing here and maybe I will make some friends?"

"That's the spirit girl! It will get easier with time, you'll see." Margie and I stood up and we began to walk towards the door.

"But I do have one more question."

"Yes dear?"

I chuckled breathlessly, "Why for the love of god is everything so out dated here!? The wallpaper, furniture, buildings, even the clothes in shops?"

Margie blinked and a comical smile formed on her corpse face, "Do you really think time exists in the land of the dead Claudia? I don't even know what date it is above this very moment! Eventually you won't either."

"Well don't expect me to be singing songs from 50 years ago. Somethings gotta change and it will start with the music." I laughed as Margie smacked my arm.

"Respect your elder's cheeky girl!"

Author's Note: Thanks for reading this far if you have. I would like to take this time to talk a little about this fanfic.

I literally started writing this three days ago on a whim and have been writing each chapter non stop and only going back to edit. This is all for funsies and has a total of 15 chapters, though i cant be sure how long each chapter will be. Sorry in advance if it is poorly written or is grammtically incorrect, i would just like to acheive my goal of someday completing a fanfiction. Hopefully it will be this one.

Corpse Bride isn't the most sought after film for fanfiction but I have always loved this movie and thought it would be fun to invest a story that delved into the land of the dead and how it might work.

I hope you enjoy the rest of Claudia's story and you will be meeting familiar faces hopefully soon.