The past revealed & a kenzi catastrophe
THE PAST REVEALED
& A KENZI CATASTROPHE
It’s been a year since I committed the worst mistake of my life. I overdosed on pills. Woah, woah, woah! Before you start grilling me on my poor life choices I would like to defend myself by saying,
I’M A COMPLETE IDIOT! It wasn’t supposed to happen, I swear! I had a huge fucking headache after completing one of my homework assignments and decided to innocently pop back a few headache pills and head to bed, hoping I’d wake up tomorrow and it would be gone.
I did wake up the next day, just not in my actual body. Come to find out my dumbass took to many and bit the dust overnight. It was terrifying hearing my mothers screams and my fathers frantic yelling for my siblings to stay in their rooms and not come out.
But it was even worse trying to come to terms with the fact I was now gone and the fact that my family couldn’t communicate with me no matter how many times I tried to speak to them. I can still remember the day.
“Omg! Mark call the fucking hospital, the cops, anybody! Hurry up!” My mother screamed as tears rolled down her face. She slumped to the floor next to my bed where I could see my obviously pale body and began to shake her head, muttering no’s and why’s.
I was sad. Scared. Angry that I couldn’t give her an answer and I couldn’t comfort her. I could do nothing but sit and watch. My father was on the phone while simultaneously holding my little sister and brother back from peeking around my doorframe.
My siblings never did see my body, not even at the funeral. The casket was closed so my parents didn’t have to see my graying face. I stood next to them as they peered down at the white wood encasing my body, no idea how I had managed to follow them to the church.
A few days passed with my depressed parents and confused but sad siblings walking around the house, purposely avoiding my bedroom. My sister always clutched a pink bunny in her hands, the very same bunny I owned when I was a baby. My parents would eventually make her put it back in my room before locking it forever.
During the days of my passing I got the hang of being dead and tried to talk to them by writing things on walls about how sorry I was or how much it hurt to see them sad. My parents thought it was my siblings and sent them away for a week to my grandparents house, but soon they learned it had to be me when the messages wouldn’t stop.
They called in a priest and he mistakenly told them that because I was relentlessly writing messages It meant I was angry and was blaming them for my death, totally wrong obviously. My parents cried and begged for my forgiveness before deciding to give up and move out.
The priest advised them to not take my stuff as it would probably make me angrier. So they didn’t and my room was stuck in time, other than the pink bunny my sister had placed on my wrinkled bed a day before moving, everything stayed the same.
Other than my room the house was empty and lonely, I was still stuck there of course. I couldn’t follow them this time. From my understanding the house wasn’t supposed to be sold as people knew it was haunted and contained my belongings.
Well it was like that, until a year passed and someone new moved in.
So here I am now. Watching the new mover struggle with dragging big heavy boxes into the living room. It was a male. About eighteen I would say. Ashy blonde hair, bluish gray eyes, and milky white skin with a beauty mark right under his left eye.
He wore a black turtleneck that showed off slight curves and a thin figure with beige colored dress pants highlighting thick but strong, long legs and black, heeled, mid calf high, combat boots. A cigarette hung on the side of his mouth as he muttered curses and groans before stretching his back, popping the cigarette from its place, sucking the smoke in, and then blowing it back out.
On one of his luggage bags there was a clear colored card with his name written on it.
Belongings of KENZI MATINEE (do NOT touch.)
Kenzi? Who names their son a girls name? My name was a lot cooler than Kenzi. My name is Aeros Blackwood. See? So much better than Kenzi.
“Fuck, godamnit, shit, fuck, fuck!” I flinched before quickly turning away from the suitcase. The idiot had fallen and banged his head on the ground when trying to pull off the old peeling paint in the living room.
Damn, more like Kenzi catastrophe.
