Other stories for this prompt

I'm dead. Really dead. Not in the "there'll be a twist at the end and I'll be saved" kind of way. Just dead. I knew that this was going to happen. In fact, I knew for three years that today, on my birthday, I was going to die. I didn't really believe it at first but as the day got closer I understood everything.

This whole thing started back three years ago. I had just turned thirteen and I wanted to start earning myself some money. After all, my parents wouldn't pay for everything I wanted anymore. The only job...

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I'm dead. Really dead. Not in the "there'll be a twist at the end and I'll be saved" kind of way. Just dead.

I'm not truly Welsh of course, being that my Great Grandfather's Mother's second husband was from Scotland. A secret shame that the Family has bourn quite well, considering. When questioned over my flame coloured Ginger hair, relatives successfully hinted at the local milk delivery representative as explanation. An obvious solution, except for the fact that her hair was clearly and obviously dyed, but there you go.

So, our family are what Cwm-yn-Canu locals would call "incomers", not...

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"I'm dead. Really dead. Not in the "there'll be a twist at the end and I'll be saved" kind of way. Just dead."

His eyes flickered open squinting in the unaccustomed sunlight. He started to rise but remained immobile. Panic began to set in. It was then that he noticed the girl slumped against the wall face ashen white. She glanced up at the ceiling and his eyes followed hers. He saw the skylight and his struggles became frantic. She was smiling now. "A trap. The bitch must have dosed herself up with ", he thought. those dammed odourless garlic...

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"I'm dead. Really dead. Not in the "there'll be a twist at the end and I'll be saved" kind of way. Just dead."

At least I assumed so otherwise they never would have activated my Stored Intelligence Module.

Dad had been the brains so when he died I had been all too happy to sell out to Graftech. I had paid for the deluxe package and knew that when I died I would be downloaded into my custom android body.

But then had come the stock-market crash of 2241 and all that had changed. I lost virtually everything and now...

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Not that I mind being dead. It's nothing to be saved from, really. Oh, at first believe me, I railed against it, bracing myself for whatever fight or hell lay before me. But after about an hour it seemed pretty clear to me that nothing was going to happen.

Literally, nothing happens when you are dead. To from your own view point anyway. Granted, I do not have a body to call my own anymore, but being dead feels surprisingly like being alive does. Only with less worry. And not taxes of course.

But if you can read this, and...

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I'm dead. Really dead. Not in the "there'll be a twist at the end and I'll be saved" kind of way. Just dead.

I suppose you want to know what happened. It was Geoff. In the bedroom with a vase. Not a very imaginitive death, really. But there you go. I went from a person to a statistic in the blink of an eye.

Dying is an odd sensation. Like when you're really drunk or hungover and the room spins when you sit up. It's just like that. I watched as he ran around wiping up the blood, hiding the...

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I'm dead. Really dead. Not in the "there'll be a twist at the end and I'll be saved" kind of way. Just dead.

Yeah, wasn't that my typical luck? My day in and day out? Slipping in and out from the friggin' jaws of death like a suicidal mouse playing with a cat? If this was what the rest of my life, which, granted, didn't look like it was gonna be very long, was gonna be, I wasn't so sure I wanted part of it. It got damn old, damn quick.

I'd faced down a lot of things in my...

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I'm dead. Really dead. Not in the "there'll be a twist at the end and I'll be saved" kind of way. Just dead. And it's absolutely nothing like I expected.

In all of the near-death experience stories I was told they talked about the light. So much so that I thought that I should walk into it, if only to see what was on the other side. Only there was nothing there, not as far as I've seen anyway. There's just the light.

I keep thinking that if I keep walking, maybe something will appear. But I've been walking and...

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I'm dead. Really dead. Not in the "there'll be a twist at the end and I'll be saved" kind of way. Just dead.

Surprisingly, I don't mind all that much. It's much calmer out here in the abyss. There's a strange peace that comes with being nothing. Or, rather, not being. There is a difference, you see.

Because I am not, I am able to not be wherever I like. And I am not in the middle of everything.

While I was alive, I loved stories. Stories were incredible things. I would look for them everywhere-- music, movies, books, newspapers,...

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I'm dead. Really dead. Not in the "there'll be a twist at the end and I'll be saved" kind of way. Just dead.

It occurred a while back, and while I was living, I thought it was pretty unfair. Most people get 60, 70 years of life. Enough people got 30 or 40 years of life.

I got 25. By the time you're 25, you're only finally getting your last degree, your first bit of experience, stepping over that last big stone in your path before you enter the real world. The one where you earn enough money to do...

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About the prompt

I'm dead. Really dead. Not in the "there'll be a twist at the end and I'll be saved" kind of way. Just dead.
Prompt suggested by DoctorMikeReddy
Originally displayed on:
June 23, 2011

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