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Tuesday, October 30, 2018

Writing Challenge: October 30th 2018


Challenge: Describe a funeral from a dead person's point of view
Written by: Princess Pea
Level of Stoned: Strong 6
Strain of choice: Moby Dick

Faces and bodies that never cared before now standing on a podium speaking my name.

Coworkers politely taking turns talking about how loved and missed I was. Two I had never even met. 

Cousins who never called and hadn’t seen me in years crying and praying and carrying on. 

Watching your own funeral is a fucking trip. 

I leaned against the giant tree in the cemetery, because I couldn’t leave the area my physical body was. 

I thought I was miserable when I was confined to that body. I thought I hated that body. I thought that body was a curse. 

And now I have a body nobody can see. 

My mom wiped her eyes and I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell her that I’m sorry and that I loved her and that I fucking tried so hard to be who she wanted me to be. 

But she can’t see me. 

The pastor I didn’t know began to speak words from a book I didn’t care about. 

Slowly, one by one, people left roses over my grave and then they left. 

My sister, the one I held on for so long for, she took the longest. Her wails and sobs shook through this celestial space that I occupied. 

But she didn’t know I could see. 

I stood behind the men with shovels who covered my grave while another group picked up the chairs. Before too long it was just me, standing over a fresh pile of dirt where underneath the earth I was already beginning to decay. 

I was born early. My mom said it was like no matter what, I had just decided that I was going to be born. 

My death was the same. 

And now in my afterlife I am all alone. 

For eternity.

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Thanks for reading!

XoXo, Princess Pea
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