BACK FROM THE DEAD

There’s something so poetic about attending your own funeral. You’re sitting in the back row in a black cloak under the cold rain. No one pays attention to you because they’re too busy mourning you. Their guilt makes them buy you flowers, but they don’t even realize that it’s not you in the closed casket.

Except I’m not mysteriously in the back row; I’m in the casket.

I recently got a job for an undercover company and was hired as one of their top-secret agents. But to do it, I needed to fake my death. And to make it realistic, it had to be an open casket.

I keep my breathing slow so that it won’t be noticed. I stay perfectly still, like a sleeping beauty. There’s pale makeup on my face, and I’m wearing an ugly blue dress and a white cardigan.

My mother walks up to the casket. Her strong coconut perfume stings my nostrils. She strokes my blonde hair and then blows her nose in a napkin. I hate that I had to do this to her. No mother should bury her child. But it’s better she thinks I’m dead than for me to disappear without a trace.

As mom walks to her seat, my sister moves closer to my face. “Thanks for the Folklore cardigan, by the way,” she whispers. I want to jolt, but I stay completely still. I hear her walk away as well, and anger fills me. I should have left behind a note with strict instructions that my sister could not have any of the merchandise I got from all the concerts I’ve gone to. I should’ve known that the second I died, she’d go after my clothes.

My boyfriend is next. “What will I do without you, Lily-pad?” he asks. I can feel his tears drop onto my skin.

My boyfriend has a very tender heart. He’s the hardest person to leave behind. He opened the blackout curtains so the sun could shine on my soul again. He was the positive one and I was the negative one. We made the perfect duo. Me faking my death is like putting those curtains back up to cover his heart and soul.

“Hey, James,” a voice says. I know that fake voice anywhere. It’s his girl best friend, Inez. I hate Inez. She claims James is more like a brother to her, and she doesn’t have feelings for him, but I beg to differ. She always flirted with him and “accidentally” ran into us on dates. “I’ll be here if you ever need anything. You can come over anytime you want.”

“No. I want to curl up in the dark and never see anyone ever again,” James replies.

“She’d want you to move on, not dwell.”

My eyelids fly open. No! I don’t want him to move on. I want him to dwell forever and ever.

“I’ll never love again,” says James.

“Well, I’ll always love you.”

I sit up in the casket, making everyone, especially Inez, scream. James screeches and stumbles backward.

My sister stands up on her seat and screams until her face turns red, then she tips the chair backward and falls on the ground.

I slowly twist my head to Inez and look deep into her shit-colored eyes. “Keep it in your pants,” I say. Inez falls onto the ground unconscious. The guests start screaming and some even scramble out the door.

I hop out of the casket and brush my dress off. The people who are still there are in complete shock. I smile at everyone and walk towards the doors to the church.

I walk outside to the clear blue sky and the warm weather. “Beautiful day,” I say. I walk down the sidewalk towards a man dressed in a black suit smoking a cigarette. “Sir,” I say.

He startles and looks at me with disbelief. “What are you doing?” he asks.

“I blew it. I don’t know how I’ll explain it to my mom, but I guess I’ll figure it out,” I say.

He continues to stare at me.

“Family is important. I thought I was a heartless woman who had nothing to lose but it turns out I’m a heartless woman with a lot to lose. I can’t take this job. I can’t do this to my family. I’m sorry.”

He nods his head once and then walks away. I watch him walk to a black suburban and drive down the church driveway.

I look around the parking lot and breathe in the fresh air. “Welp…time to clean up this mess.”

Kittley Rose grew up on a farm in Eastern Colorado. She independently published her first book when she was 17 and is at work on a fantasy series. When she’s not writing, she spends her time reading fantasy books and playing with her dog. Her Instagram is @k.roseauthor where she promotes herself as a writer.