I Am Dead Now

Midnight came and went and I heard the ghosts of the past rattle their chains at me. Closed my eyes and went to sleep while they shrieked, howled, groaned and moaned my direction, but didn’t give them the satisfaction of answering.

My silence was more powerful than anything I could have said and had more force than the best “go fuck yourself” a man can muster.

The next day they found me in the car, engine running, windows rolled up and a big grin on my face.

Peace at last.


I looked down at my body and watched friends and family stare at what remained. It was nothing more than a hollow shell that had once contained what they call a soul or a spirit.

The eyes were wide open but the light that had lit them was extinguished and the energy that once radiated from it was gone, but to where no one could say. Or at least that is what they had always told me.

Now I was going to find out if the nuns were right about my going directly to Hell.

I suppose if I ended up walking down some street in cleveland I would have to call Sister Madeline and tell her that her “great fear for my immortal soul” had come true. Wouldn’t that be a hoot.

Or maybe things would go a different direction and I would find out the yogis and there claim that all beings were nothing more than balls of cosmic energy was right. Maybe I would feel myself being torn into a million different pieces and particles of light to be scattered every which way around the world.

Hell, that might send me right back into all the places I had just tried to leave so maybe the joke was on me.


I didn’t leave a note or give a reason for doing what I did because I didn’t want to make it quick, clean and easy. Wasn’t trying to add any more pain to anyone else’s platter but I wanted to make it clear that people are complicated and there are multiple layers that no one can just peel away.

You can’t just look at a person and declare them to be happy, sad, angry or mad and expect that label to describe them in total. There is more. We are more.

But there wasn’t anyway to do so without being the selfish prick they already knew me to be so I acted as they expected by doing the unexpected.

Yeah, I am a real peach aren’t I.


The strange thing about looking down at myself and the people is that I still have this sense of time but I can’t figure out why. I shouldn’t be floating around here knowing that 17 hours 33 minutes have passed since I passed

At least I don’t think that is how it should be, but I haven’t been gone all that long. Or maybe this is part of being in Hell. Maybe Hell really is like being stuck at the Department of Motor Vehicles waiting for your number to be called.

Sort of makes sense to me in an odd sort of way. Sort of fits, but I don’t really know if that is the case or not. Haven’t been dead long enough to figure out what sort of rules there are or if I am still supposed to retain any sort of consciousness about me.

Tried to get the attention of the people down below but they can’t see or hear me which isn’t all that different from real life. Sure, they could hear and see me then but no one reacted or paid attention to me then so this isn’t much different.

There is a female M.E. checking out my body now. Damn, it figures that she has me naked during the one time I can’t respond or react.

So the ghost version of me is trying really hard to get the old body to show her the sort of life that once flowed through all of me but the damn flag pole won’t raise and I don’t have the spook version of Viagra.

Can’t seem to get my voice to shout “Your hands are cold” or do much of anything.

Correction, it seems my body is capable of making some noises because Mr. Cool just released something from the wrong end. That is just wrong. I was told that after death your body releases whatever it was holding onto but I had thought it would have been done already.

Damn, I might as well stay dead now because resurrection at this point probably wouldn’t get me a date with her. Or maybe it would.

Someone who works with stiffs for a living might have an open mind.

“Hey baby, you brought me back to life. Why not see if you can bring the rest of me back?”

Might make a good story, or maybe not.

Categories: Fiction, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

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