…. I died.
Deceased. Passed. Gone.
You probably won't believe me because I'm here, telling you that I'm dead. Because if I were truly dead, how could I tell you this?
So whatever term you want to use, It really does not matter. Because nothing will change the fact that my death was definitely fate giving me the middle finger.
Ugh. Tuesdays.
Tuesdays are always the worst days to die.
Nobody wants to pass away at the start of the week, in the morning, right at the beginning of a college season where work starts to stack up; sort of like the unwanted pancakes that my Roommate Jennifer used to bring back to the apartment. The same roommate that my ex went behind my back to sleep with on weekends, which explains her absence now that I think about it..
Nobody wants to die in the morning, after missing breakfast and before lunch, on an empty stomach because they were rushing due to having overslept because the alarm was set for 7:00 instead of 5:00. (Yes. It's personal).
I knew my alarm wanted me to suffer.
To be honest, I'm just glad I wasn't there for my death. Well.. I was technically there, but just not witnessing it like the bystander I saw when I fell, who pointed to me and let out a unholy shriek of jumbled phrases that I didn't make out because by the time I had even registered I had fallen; My body made impact as I face-planted at full speed onto Samuel's car roof.
Let me explain.
It was due to a supposedly random chain of events that I met my demise. But it was so extremely random that I'm pretty sure the whole fiasco had to have been planned cause it's too stupid to have been an accident. Falling out of a window? Hey, at least it wasn't a meat grinder like the girl on the news years ago, who accidentally slipped and -
Wait. I'm going off track.
I had finished my part time job at the local open 24 hour caffe, and due to my sick coworker that couldn't make it, I had offered to work overtime. Which was completely fine at the time, cause whenever I did overtime, I was rewarded with free boxes of the foods that they sold.
A big mistake that was.
Having got back to the apartment complex at 9:00, about 4 hours earlier than I had anticipated, I decided that I wanted to surprise my roommate Jennifer with all of the free cupcakes and discounted coffee machine I had been rewarded with due to my outstanding work.
Dammit. That's another reason why I shouldn't be dead. I didn't even get to use my coffee machine and it was a self grinder with all of the little vanilla essence pods and the sweet smelling things... obviously I've never used one before.
Anyway, I had gone back up to our shared apartment which was the top of the apartments since Jennifer insisted she be above everyone else. Should've been a red flag right there.
Having reached our shared complex, with a massive box of sweet treats and my coffee maker, I halted at the door to surprise her. I wanted her to know that no matter what, we would always be roommates, even after I went to Australia for my internship.
Just as I was about to open the paint speckled door, I heard whispering from right behind the doorframe.
"She's just a know it all bitch. I don't care if she goes to Australia or hell, as long as she leaves Samuel behind."
"Don't you think your overreacting Jenny?" Another flat voice drawls from the other side of the frame, who could only be Amber, the girl I used to sit next to during math glass in 6th grade.
"Ugh. Amber she literally is all over him. I want her gone. We're only roommates because she is smart and her boyfriend is sleeping with me."
"You going to his tonight?"
"Yeah of course I am, we're gonna go to his place and spice thing up, just like last week on Clara's ugly kitchen table."
"Oh my god no?!"
"Oh my god yess!" Their squeals reverberate off the empty space between the door that separates us yet holds us so close to each over.
In the end, all I remember is leaving to go to sit in my mini dump of a car, not even in the mood to cry any tears. My phone must have notified me, because her icon popped up on my screen alerting me that she would be at her friends house for a few days so she wouldn't be able to make it for our monthly roommate anniversary.
And by friends house I knew she clearly meant Samuel's apartment. Ew.
So instead of crying or sobbing in distress, I channeled that emotion and decided to desecrate Samuel's brand new car. I even made sure to add lots of chicken paste and baby powder on the roof, which I regret due to the later circumstances that were soon to happen.
The only reason why I had leant so far out of my window was to reach my phone to order a break up pizza with my favourite toppings of veggies, only for my chair to wobble and the window to miraculously snap shut, which pushed me out of my apartment and fall to my death from 10 stories above.
Now that I recall it... it sounds kinda stupid.
Ugh. Bet he is glad I'm dead. Especially since he knows I hate Tuesday's with a passion.
That, and I had also scratched his car with my keys, painted his tyres neon orange and put a ridiculous amount of chicken paste in the crevices of his car.
Maybe that was a bit much...
Nah.
He slept with Jennifer on my pristine kitchen table, so what I did will probably never be enough. I should have crashed his car. At least that would've been a less embarrassing way to die, and worth the trouble that I'm currently going through.
So yes. Dying on a Tuesday sucks. Or well.. dying in general sucks but Tuesday's make it so much worse.
Due to it being the middle of the week, most things are unfinished and require time to be formed into something more presentable. Not being able to complete assignments is the worst kind of torture. Especially when it counts towards finals.
Not that it matters much when your dead.
I'm deceased so why the heck would I care about coursework?
Nobody who's sanity is intact worries about college when their dead, I don't think they worry at all.
Yet here I am.
So, I guess In terms of the crappy workload and the teachers torture in the form of 'work', dying on a Tuesday seems to be the universe being shitfaced petty and saying lol you went to church, but look where that got you?
Hey hey, at least church was fun. At least I enjoyed it mother-cracker.
Which leads me to my recent dilemma. I'm pretty sure that I'm in hell.
Which is sooo ironic, since I attended church every week AND I didn't say anything about pastor Shirley and brother David getting it on in the communal bathroom. I kept to myself and was pretty chill.
So why am I HERE.
Throwing my hands up in exhaustive annoyance I keep trekking through the grassy maze that had emerged after the dark wasteland I had encountered a while back.
Maybe it was the ginger cat I accidentally ran over on my way to work or the flowerbeds that I used to throw weed killer on because of my pollen allergies.. or maybe it was that time where I lied about putting my sister Rhea in hospital from salmonella poisoning because we tried to see who could eat the most raw chicken in one sitting...
Whatever the reason, it doesn't explain the dudes in biker outfits who obscure my vision from what they are gathered around, and it looks as if they ... wait..is that a tail?
Holy shit that's a tail. A big lizard type black tail with the type of crimson specks that show up on the poisonous animals, on those nature shows that they advise you to steer clear of. Hmmm, yeah nope, I don't think so.
I would say I'm too young to die but.... you know.
Deciding that I want to keep my precious dead self away from whatever those things are, I turn to go back through the maze of hilly hedges I emerged from, when I woke up in this place, but as soon as I swivelled around from my kneeling position, a hand grabbed my shoulder and dragged me back.
Rendering everything around me to black out while the strong hand over my mouth muffled my screams of terror.