t h e a f t e r l i f e

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Newt stuck out his hand, so I reached out and grabbed it and he pulled me to my feet.
"Not like I wanted ya' to die," he said, "but I was getting lonely up here, Tommy. All I got is Chuck and Teresa, and some other shanks."
"Wait . . Chuck? He's here?" I choked, surprised by the sound of my own voice. "You're here? Teresa? I . . Die? I'm dead?"
Newt sighed and playfully punched my shoulder. "Don't be a slinthead," he said, "where do ya' think you are?"
"I don't know. I . . I thought I was dreaming." I rubbed at the part of my stomach where the bullethole used to be. "I got shot - I thought I just passed out."
"Nope, you're here now," Newt says, "Chuck calls it heaven, but I don't beileve in that klunk. I just call it the afterlife."
"Chuck . ." I say, looking at my surroundings. I had just noticed the land around me - green grass, blue skies, clouds everywhere. "I need to see Chuck," I say, walking away from Newt.
"Ha, guess you didn't miss me very much!" Newt called after me. "Look at ya! Just walking away!"
I spun around on my heels, and faced a smirking Newt.
"Don't play dumb," I say, "you know I missed you more than anyone else."

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