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by hajima772

by hajima772

"Name?"

"Kang Mina."

"Age?"

"17."

"Cause of Death?"

"... Not sure..."

"Can I see your death certificate?"

"... uhh the thing is..."

Ahh... I feel a massive migraine coming my way. I massage my temples to soothe the sudden rush of blood to my head.

"Miss, it's clearly written on outside my office, that all walk-in appointments require you to bring your ID, and official death certificate which will have your date of passing, photo and cause of death written clearly in times new roman size 12 font." I point to the 24"x36" poster taped onto my door. NO PAPERS NO SERVICE.

"Y-yes, I read the poster." She stammers, "b-but I'm in a unique situation, you see. I don't even know where my body is!"

notcoolnotcoolnotcoolnotcool

Undocumented souls are every grim reaper's nightmare. With no files, they are unable to pass over to the other side. Instead, undocumented souls must apply for refugee status, once that goes through they are forced to a. find their bodies, report it to the local officials and receive a special migrant document or b. wander around the four corners of the earth, until slowly lose their memories and remain trapped on earth, forever.

"You're in the wrong department honey," I tell her, "You've got to head over to the refugee office."

Her ghostly pale face turns translucent. "Nononono, don't send me there please. You're practically giving me a death sentence."

"You better get going now," I tell her as I push her out of my office, "the line is only getting longer, and may I add, technically, you're already dead. Next!"

---

"W-wait! Kim Myung Jun!"

Hold up.

"How do you know my name?"