Romans & histoires Read Death

Over my dead fucking body. **************************************************

She lived from the heart, lived with every fiberShe hadn’t always done it, though. After her favorite people had done it, Helen too had given up life, as if it were a low-paid job. Death is a funny thing. When someone dies, the sun rises the next morning, as if nothing has happened, and punctually it sets again at night. Even though someone is dead, the train platforms are just as busy as before. Someone has died, and the people simply go on with their daily lives. They meet up with loved ones in the evening, and continue to complain about the coffee that burns their lips, the boss who won't give them a break, the partner who almost suffocates them with love.

Kael tapped the screen, and the headline lit up instantly, bold and chilling: **"MYSTERIOUS DEATHS CONTINUE AMID ICE CIRCUIT: THIRD PLAYER FOUND DEAD OUTSIDE ARENA" I took a step closer, reading over his shoulder. The article described how, over the last four days, three players from different teams had been found dead in almoo similar conditions, no visible wounds, just collapsed in alleyways or locker rooms. And all within hours of finishing a game or training session.

But, as soon as her best friend was mentioned, she began to ponder and ask her higher self whether her decision was right or there are just some things that must be done even if you know it’s not that right. “Rozelyn... every minute and hour, someone and something dies. So, death is just a part of life. It is crucial in the never-ending cycle of existence. Death is not the opposite of life. It is still life...without the fanciness and lifestyle of an earthling,” Romaine expressed in a genuine voice . “Drink now, darling.” So Rozelyn did.

I had maggots crawling about my skin and rotten flesh. Mark did not cover his nose like before. Instead, he drew closer to my face. Then, he flew into a rage. “Jane, is it fun toying with me?! You sure made this dummy look real! How could you possibly be dead?! I won’t allow you to die!” As he was throwing his tantrum, I suddenly heard footsteps. Mark was delighted. “I knew it, Jane! You aren’t dead!” But his eyes flew wide open a moment later because the people who had come were his parents.

Not even in death. The End.

The memory answers before she can stop it. Her back against the concrete pillar. The dead closing in. One hand pressed to her bleeding arm. The bag gone. Dex gone. No rescue. No miracle. Just her, laughing once because of course this was how it ended, because if she had known betrayal came with this much paperwork she would have asked for a receipt. She had still tried to get up. Even then. Especially then. “That’s a flattering way to say I died stubborn.” It was a statistically significant death. A laugh escapes her before she can catch it. Small. Ugly. Almost nothing.

“passed away” I force my face to arrange itself into what hopefully passes for a grateful smile. “Thank you.” Back at my desk, I pull out a sheet of paper and try to write a list of good things in my life. One: I have a roof over my head. Sure, for now I do. Two: I’m not dead. But the only person I had in the whole world is. Sighing, I give up and crumple the paper into a ball. Students are turning in their tests and starting conversations. Evidently every test day is followed by some free time.

It was my death certificate. Mom picked up a pen but didn't sign. Instead, she threw it heavily to the ground and tore the document apart until it was in pieces. She said, "I'm not signing it. Flora isn't dead! Why should I sign a death certificate for someone who's still alive?" Then, Mom yanked Cindy up from the floor. "Come home with me. Flora pulled this stunt when she was younger. She jumped into the river and made everyone think she was dead. And what happened? Didn't someone send her back the very next day?"