Death and Before Rising

(Pre Zombie)

I’ve been post-mortem for 10 days now and they refuse to burn my body they way I wanted it done – something about my misguided Mother wanting a viewing and a proper burial. Funny how she’s always been worried about which gutter I was lying or the ditch I had come to rest. Hell, just another way for her to worry. I know my sister would fulfill my wishes but she would never stand up to my Mother.

But this place ain’t so bad. I got my own drawer and a nice little sheet and the neighbors aren’t bad. Mr. Thompson’s getting ready to head to the home, and Sally says she’s in a better place cause anywhere’s better than the one bedroom apartment where she took her beatings. I guess I am a little sick of the bitchin’ and moanin’, but you know how people are when some big change happens in their lives. I can’t blame them…I’ve always been good with change, never really bothered me. Might be because I was an Army brat and my Father was always dragging us around.

Mom did the same thing when the old man died. He wanted a small quick funeral and had it all prepared and everything. But would she let it go? Hell no! It’s almost like she needed that one last feeling of control. She did that all my life. Like how I wanted to go into the military and she made me go to college. Always trying to make me do something I didn’t want. And here we are again, you think she’d just be happy to see our final wishes out. No way buddy, not her. One more way to keep me under her goddamn thumb.

Aw, what the hell am I talking about? This shouldn’t be a time of anger. This is the great beyond and here I am whining about my Mother. She means well. Just wants the best.
There’s a new guy today, think his name is Bobby or Tommy or something like that. Christ, who knows with all the damn blubbering he’s doin’. Everybody’s getting’ a little sick of him. I mean hell, we all got problems right? If he mentions one more time about how the goddamn cigarette company killed him slowly and lied to him, I think I’ll climb outta this drawer and give him something to really bitch about.

There’s also this sweet little number in drawer 3. She came in last night and has the sweetest little voice. I mean, I think she was a hooker, but hell this is the afterlife and everyone deserves a second chance. I’d like to be the one who gives her that chance. Maybe I’ll meet her on the other side and we can shake the mortal coil and our bodies. HA!
Oh my Mother would roll over in her grave if she saw that one. Well, roll over in bed considering she’s still alive and all. She never approved of any of the girls I brought home. Hell, that’s why I never got married.

Really she’s not a bad person, she only wants the best for her baby. I guess I should be thanking her for caring about me, with the way I died and all. It wasn’t a pretty picture. I mean they’re gonna have a hell of a time fixin’ me up for the open casket. The restoration alone’s gonna cost a pretty penny and for what? So everyone I knew can come and gawk at me and say, “Thank God that isn’t me”. Well someday it will be you and when it is I’m gonna be there looking at you saying the same goddamn thing. Umm, well, maybe I won’t be there but somebody else will and you’ll feel the same damn way I do right now. And another thing-

Wait, they’re pulling me out of the drawer. I can hear the Doctor saying something…What?! Huh? There sending me to the crematorium! Yes! My sister did it. But How? She never could stand up to Mom. But she must have. Take that you old bitch. Take that! That’s for all the times you disapproved, for all the times you wouldn’t let me have that second piece of pie, for all the times it had to be your way or the highway. Take that. Take that! Haha!

But don’t get me wrong. My Mother was a wonderful woman. Very loving and supportive. I remember one time when I was ten and she took us-

Oh sorry, gotta go. The afterlife’s a callin’ Catch you on the rebound or on the other side or whatever the hell happens. Nice talkin’ to ya.

Burn baby burn! Haha!

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