DONALD TRUMP IS PRESIDENT
I read the title outloud and hear Flint gasp. I don't visibly show my disbelief, but I was definitely confused inside. What the heck was happening in the human world?
"He actually won?" I mumble to no one in particular, as Flint moves to my side of the booth.
We are at They Bean Dead, this artificial coffee joint near the castle. Aura wanted to invite Flint to a dinner at the castle in person, so we dropped by here and then went out together.
I have almost given up hope on ever getting to see my house. Every time, something or the other went wrong, and we end up getting delayed. Guess my bad luck followed me all the way to my grave.
"Oh shit, I got to call my bookie!" Flint jokes, but I do know there is some truth to what he was saying. People seriously bet on current events happening up on Earth. I thought it was quite cruel that they are treating humans like race cars.
I heard rumors flying around that some realm travelers get paid to go and warp the results in one sides favor. Personally, I believe we have no business screwing with the human world, but when you don't have any ties up there, what's the point of kindness?
Flint was still bent over me reading the article on Aw Hell No, the Earth news website. My eyes travel around the store, and land on one person. My jaw almost drops, and I start to squeeze the life out of Flint's hand.
"Ow! Ana, what's wrong?" I don't respond, so he follows my eyes to a man sitting, sipping his coffee while adjusting his bandana.
"Is that Tupac?" I squeal, just realizing that famous people die too. How had this not hit me before. I guess it is like living in Hollywood. You don't believe celebrities live, or in this case die, a normal life until you see them.
I guess I was loud enough because Tupac turned towards me. His cross moved around with his neck as his tired eyes met mine.
"I ain't Tupac. I'm a Tupac impersonator!" He slams his coffee down, then slams his money down, and before leaving, looks me straight in the eye. "Don't disrespect the living." His death eyes don't relax at all as he turns on his heel and struts towards the exit.
"Well, that was-" Flint pauses, probably to find a way to describe a situations odd as that. "-something..." His voice trails off, as he gets up to move back to his original spot across from me in the booth.
I still stare open mouthed outside the window watching the fake Tupac walking away.
"So.... Tupac is alive?" I say it so softly, it is a surprise Flint even hears me. I see him nod out of the corner of my eye, and a frown takes over my face. For one, I owe Amara twenty bucks, and on top of that the Tupac impersonator is-by the looks of it-yelling at the sky while holding onto a tree a bit too tightly.
Flint's soft skin against mine breaks away my steady focus and directs it towards his worried face.
"What is actually wrong?" Flint asks, rubbing his thumb in a steady back and forth motion on my skin. I watch it almost hypnotically as I reply.
"What do you mean?" I question. I knew exactly what he meant, and I knew exactly what was wrong. Usually, I tell Flint everything, but today?
Today my soul feels tired
What a weird way to describe it, but for some reason it fits perfectly. My soul is tired of spilling and feeling bad for myself. I am tired of trying to fix things. I don't want to talk about it anymore; I just want my mind to be somewhere else.
In some magical way, I think Flint picks up on that.
"I know this cool place just a couple minutes walk away from here." He pauses, waiting for my reaction. I simply look up with a small smile, but internally, I am beyond grateful to have him there.
His green eyes remind me of our first meeting. They still are constrained, but as they crinkle up, pure happiness shines through.
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Author's note
This chapter is super short, but it is really just part one (like it says) of a really long chapter. This was the only natural breaking spot, so I went with this.
Ps: I have been writing for like 3 hours so this is unedited. Please point out mistakes if you see them.
Hope you enjoyed part one! If you did, it would be amazing if you give it a vote! If you have any thoughts on the story so far, I would love to hear them, so leave a comment.
Keep reading for part two <3
- S
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Afterlife
HumorAna is your average almost 18-year-old. The only difference? She's dead. And now is spending her time in hell (or as they like to call it - the underworld). That doesn't stop her from going on a chase to catch her mystery murderer along with her ne...
