All rights reserved 1997 TopCat’s Tales and deathmistress.com
 
 
 
The Last funeral*
 Her long dress flowed around her slim legs as she danced among the caskets. The music played in her head as her feet carried her around the room... hands caressing the many caskets. Some contained the bodies of some loved one, while others sat empty waiting for an occupant. It seemed forever since Jenni’s father had left her alone at the funeral home. She loved when she was there alone and there was no chance of being disturbed.
 
Growing up as the daughter of a funeral home director had caused Jenni much grief in her life. The other kids often taunted her, making cruel jokes about the dead. Often she found solace in the quiet with the dead. The dead soon became her friend. Often the girl would spend hours telling some dearly departed about her troubles... they always listened quietly. After Jenni’s mother’s death, she spent even more time in the funeral home. She still cried sometimes thinking about the suddenness of her mother’s death.
 
This night Jenni was happy. She could spend the entire night in the funeral home. Not many times in her life she had that chance. The girl danced to what had always been her favorite casket. It was not always the same one, but the color and style was always the same. It was white with gold trim. The handles were bold, gleaming gold, and large. The gold looked as if it was real. The inside was her favorite. The satin lining was off white ruffles. The pillow was full and soft, as was the drape: the part that covers the opening to the lower half of the casket.
 
Her mother’s wedding dress fit perfectly. She loved wearing it when she was alone in the funeral home. She hoped to someday wear it to her own wedding. The lonely girl sighed at the thought of her own wedding. She had never had a boyfriend so there was little chance of a wedding in the near future. Still, she found joy that she would someday wear it at her own funeral.
 
The dance carried her to a closed casket of light pink. Inside she knew there was a young girl just brought in that day. Cautiously, Jenni looked around and released the latches of the lid. Slowly she opened it, the light smell of decaying flesh rushed to her senses. Being around the smell all of her life, she paid little attention to it.
 
The girl in the casket looked to be no more than sixteen, a year less than herself. Jenni felt sad at this girl having died so young. She wondered if this girl had a boyfriend, from her beauty she would guess yes, and no doubt he was crying over his loss. Jenni hoped that someday a lover would cry over her loss. She took the cold lifeless hand in the casket and squeezed it lightly. Suddenly sad, Jenni kissed the girl’s hand. That close to her face the smell of death was more vivid.
 
With her eyes getting heavy, Jenni went back to her favorite casket. Her gate was slowed with tiredness; the music no longer played in her head. She took her hand and pulled up the hem of the long wedding dress. The fine material ruffled loudly in the silence. Jenni slid into the casket, taking care to pull the dress over her shapely legs. The bulk of her body and the dress consumed all the space in the casket. She laid back and sighed with relief. Once again she was where she felt she belonged. Normally, she left the upper lid open, but this night even the usually dim light seemed bright. She managed to get one of her white high heel slippers off her foot and in her hand. This she used to prop the lid open enough for fresh air to enter. It didn’t take long for her to drift off to sleep.
 
Henry arrived at midnight with his vacuum cleaner in tow. He had been the caretaker of the funeral home most of his life. The job had taken him through several owners. Some of the owners and the things he had seen happen there were best forgotten. In his younger days Henry had done things of which he was not so proud. The old caretaker remembered a night with one corpse, that to this day, he is not sure she was dead. Kate, that was her name he thought. Those had been strange times in the home.
 
Shaking thoughts of the past, Henry turned on the vacuum. The noise seemed out of place among the dead, but Henry went about his work, whistling. He was proud of his job, taking care to clean beneath each casket. The vacuum cleaner rolled noisily over the deep, dark red carpet. Not looking at anything but the floor, Henry bumped into several of the caskets. As he bumped one something fell to the floor, the sound hidden by the noise of the vacuum.
 
An hour later Henry surveyed the room to make sure he had not missed a spot. He was about to leave when he noticed a white high heel sandal laying on the floor. The old man walked over and carefully picked it up . He looked around the room wondering where it could have come from. Henry looked at the casket it was laying near and wondered. His hand went to the lid to open it, but hesitated. The thought of the past flooded his mind. The vile things he had done to what lies in the caskets. Still his curiosity won the battle. Slowly, with a shaking hand, he opened the casket. He did not want to look, but forced his eyes to the open casket. What he saw was almost too much for his old heart. In the casket lay the body of Jenni, the bosses’ daughter.
 
He wondered when she had passed. Tears came to his eyes at the thought of her death. She had always been nice to him. The girl had treated him as if he was someone, not just a caretaker. Why had no one told him, he thought. Maybe because he was only the hired help, was his answer. Still crying, he touched the back of his hand to her slight face. To his surprise, her flesh was warm. Then he felt the breath from her nose on his hand. His eyes went wide with horror. He dropped the shoe and ran from the room screaming, "This can’t be happening again."
 
Henry gathered up his nerve and walked back to the casket. The girl lay as she had been before. Nervously he laid a hand on her shoulder and shook her slightly. The girl did not move. He shook her again, and with a quivering voice, said, "Missy, are you okay Miss Jenni? "
 
Jenni slowly woke, dreaming that someone was shaking her. The fog of sleep slowly lifted from her eyes. Fear hit her like a wall, above her was the caretaker. The realization she had been discovered brought panic. She began to cry and beg, "Please don’t tell anyone. I will never do it again. Oh heaven, don’t think me strange"
 
The caretaker always cared for the girl, and said, "I promise to not tell."
 
Jenni sat up and hugged the old man graciously. Henry was crying and without thinking said, "I was so scared, I thought it was like your mother."
 
The girl pushed away and asked with confusion, "What do you mean, like my mother."
 
Henry realized what he had said and tried to cover, "I guess I was talking about when she died."
 
Jenni was about to accept his answer when she saw the fear in his eyes. "There is more to it than that, tell me."
 
The old man looked more tired than he had in years. The memories began to flood back. For years he had blocked the memories as if nothing ever happened. Seeing Jenni in the casket had awakened those memories that he did not wish to remember. He wanted to run and never return to this place, but he knew that was not possible. Beyond the funeral home there was no life for him. Henry looked at the young girl and saw so much of her mother. He then decided to take the offensive and asked, " What are you doing here?"
 
Jenni looked down to see she was still sitting in the casket and began to cry as she said, "I come here when father is out of town. I like it here. It’s a place I feel safe and not so alone."
 
Henry did not know what to say. The girl again asked, " You know something about my mother that you are not telling."
 
He thought back to the beauty of Kate and said, "She liked to come here as well. This was her favorite place. She often did as you are now."
 
Jenni closed her eyes and imagined her mother lying in a casket. "Henry? How did my mother die?"
 
The old man hesitated and repeated the official cause of death; " She died of natural causes."
 
"Tell me how she really died." Jenni demanded, knowing there was more Henry was not telling.
 
A surprised voice called out, " What the hell is going on here?"
 
The old man and the girl jerked in the direction of the voice. Jenni went stiff with fright as she saw her father standing in the doorway. "Dad!"
 
Mark, with a dazed look, walked to where she sat in the casket. Memories of Kate came back to him. Jenni looked so much like her mother. He knew this would be the day she learned the truth about her mother. Mark smiled at henry to ease his discomfort, and said, " Could you leave my daughter and I alone for a while."
 
Henry did not hesitate, anxious to be anywhere but in this room. Mark reached for a stool, set it next to the casket, and smiled, " You are beautiful in your mother’s dress. You know I loved your mother a lot."
 
"I know you did father. You aren’t mad at me are you?" She asked nervously.
 
He kissed her lightly on the forehead and said, "I could never be angry with you. I love you more than life itself."
 
"Tell me about my mother?"
 
Mark had resigned himself to telling her the whole story. He told her how her mother was dying when she came to him with her fantasy of being buried alive. How at first he was reluctant. Then how they fell in love with each other, but her illness took its toll and she would soon die. During the time they planned the funeral, they made love often. During that time Jenni was conceived. Kate never knew she was pregnant. The night before the funeral he had given Kate something so she would sleep. That night he induced labor and Jenni was born.
 
"Dad," she asked, "Was mom dead when I was…?"
 
"No dear, she was alive."
 
Mark went on to tell about all the others that came to him for the same reason. He told how someone wrote a series of stories about the girls that came to the funeral home for live burials. Jenni barely heard as she thought of her mother in a casket as she was now.
 
Mark stood and asked, " Do you want to stay here tonight?"
 
"If you don’t mind."
 
He kissed her on the forehead, and with a smile, said, "Good night honey and don’t sleep late. I have an early service. It wouldn’t do for our guest to find you here."
 
She lovingly smiled and said, "Good night dad."
 
Jenni laid back in the casket and thought of all she had been told as she drifted into a restless sleep. The next morning she woke to the familiar sounds of her dad busy at work. The girl sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Mark said, " Time to get up sleepyhead, the guest will be arriving soon. Will you be attending this morning’s service?"
 
Not fully awake, she replied, " I guess so." Jenni climbed from the tight confines of the casket and climbed the stairs to her room. She thought with a smile, no wonder people thought she was weird living in a funeral home. What normal person attends several funerals a week?
 
In her room, Jenni removed the wedding dress and carefully laid it across the bed. Looking at the dress laying on the bed made her mind think of the night she had spent in the casket and the things her dad had said. The young girl could not believe her mother had actually been buried alive. She was almost jealous.
 
The bath was warm and soothing. The water seemed to wash the thoughts from her mind. Jenni wanted to just lay in the water and relax, but there was not much time until the funeral. She had forgot who it was to be buried that day. Out of the tub, she dried off and went to her closet. Looking through the clothes she was amused to notice how many of them were black. With the number of funerals she attended, it was not really a surprise. Her mood that day was good so she took out the black suit with the short daring skirt. Her dad hated when she wore short skirts to the funerals. Jenni smiled and thought how the pallbearers did not seem to mind.
 
Jenni walked down the stairs. The guests were already arriving. The men that had gathered to talk turned to look up the stairs. Their eyes went to her long legs covered with the black hose. The black high heels made her already perfect legs more so. The mirror on the wall caught her reflection. Jenni smiled and thought her long black hair made her surely look like the funeral directors daughter. For the first time she understood why people thought her so weird.
 
The funeral was that of the young girl Jenni had looked at the night before. She looked lovely in the pink dress and bows in her blonde hair. Jenni guessed the girl must have dressed like that for Easter church services. A woman sat crying, clinging to a man’s arm. The girl knew from past experienced this would be the girl’s mother. Jenni thought she could never have the pleasure of her mother crying at her own funeral.
 
The service was brief and then every one paraded by the casket to say their final farewells. Jenni stood in the rear of the line, wanting to see the girl whose hand she had held the night before.
 
Standing before the casket Jenni looked down at the girl and wished she could hold her hands once again, but would not dare with so many people around. She looked down and the young girl’s small breast, hoping to see them rise from taking a breath. If this girl were only alive to enjoy this experience, she thought. Why was something as beautiful as a funeral wasted on the dead, she thought. At that moment Jenni knew what she must do.
 
At night Jenni began slept in the casket in the main viewing hall. One night she was restless and got up to wander around looking at the various bodies. Her movements took her near her father’s office. The lights were out as they usually were at night. Jenni flipped on the light and looked at the desk. Her mind drew the picture of her mother and father sitting at the desk filling out the death certificate. The girl knew there was no need to ask her father to bury her as he had her mother.
 
On the desk was a book she had never seen before. Jenni sat down and opened it. This was a hand written journal. To the girl’s astonishment, it was a journal of her mother’s death. In it were details on how they carried out the ruse. Her eyes lit with surprise as she read about the drug that simulates death. Jenni wondered if her dad still had the drug. Looking around the room she spotted the safe. Jenni gathered the full skirt of the wedding dress and knelt before the safe. Her hands deftly opened the safe. She had watched her father open it many times. Her mind must have unconsciously grasped the numbers. In the safe were stacks of papers. Among the papers would be her mother’s death certificate. This was not what she was looking for. Jenni wanted the drug that simulates death.
 
Disappointed she closed the safe and went to the embalming room. The curious girl went straight to the refrigerator where the various chemicals were stored. On the bottom shelf in the back was a box. Jenni’s heart leapt, as she knew this was for what she had searched. She carried the cold box to the embalming table and stared at the lock. How was she to open it, her mind wondered? Rushing back to her father’s office she searched frantically for a set of keys. A smile beamed across her face as she found a set of keys in the top drawer of the desk.
 
Jenni was almost running by the time she was standing in font of the locked box. The first several keys would not fit. Her hopes began to dwindle. The next to the last key she tried fit. Excitement was replaced by nervousness. Her hand shook slightly as the key slowly turned. There was a slight snap as the lock popped open. Slowly she raised the lid to reveal several small vials of greenish fluid. From what had been read in the journal, she knew that this must be what she hoped it might be. Jenni took one of the cold vials in her hand and held it to the light. Nothing from the color indicated it was anything special. She removed the cap and held the vial to her nose. The smell was horrible, it was that of a decaying body. This had to be it, she thought.
 
The box was locked and placed back in the cooler in the exact same place. She carried the precious vial back to her casket. For hours she lay there looking at the small vial. In it held all her dreams. Once again she opened the vial; the smell invaded her sense. Nervously Jenni touched her tongue to the greenish fluid. She began to gag severely. For a moment she thought that nights supper was going to finds its way out. Finally the gagging stopped and she looked at the vial. The taste was the most horrible thing she had ever experienced.
 
The taste of the fluid lingered, still, she almost liked the taste. The foul taste is what would make her dreams come true. Jenni then had an idea. If she took only a small part of the drug then the effects would be less and most likely not be permanent. With the cap removed from the vial once more, Jenni wondered if the drug would make her smell the same. The vial held to her lips, she hesitated momentarily, and then took a sip. Once again she gagged. Her body tried to force the vile liquid from it, but the drug resisted. She forced a second sip. To her surprise the gagging stopped. Jenni held the vial to the dim light and saw half of its contents were gone.
 
Jenni carried the vial and the remainder of its contents to her room. Shoving the soft drinks aside in the small refrigerator, she placed the vial safely in the back. She rushed back to her casket and lay down. Her heart raced, wondering what effects the drug would have, and how long it would take to work. Maybe she had not taken enough for the drug to have any effect. After an hour she was feeling a little disappointed there had been no effects from the drug. Tomorrow, she thought, she would take more of the drug. For the moment all she desired was sleep.
 
The next morning Jenni woke and remembered the drug. She guessed the dosage was too small or it was not even the drug she had desired. At least it was not poison she thought happily. She sat up in the casket, her back was stiff and hurting. Too many nights sleeping in the hard casket, she thought. The room seemed colder than usual, after her bath she reminded herself to check the thermostat. On the way to her room she noticed her legs were stiff and hurting as well.
 
The hot bath seemed to remove the cold and stiffness. As she dressed, the thoughts of the drug almost vanished. She had written it off as a failed experiment. That day there were no funerals so Jenni had the day to herself. Her father had gone to directors’ meeting and Henry had the day off. The funeral home was all hers for the day. Wanting to read more, she went to her dad’s office.
 
To her disappointment the journal was gone. Searching through the drawers for the journal she found a stack of papers. Jenni’s eyes lit up as she realized these were the stories her dad had talked about. The detailed account of several women’s live burial. She read the title of the first story "Funeral (The funeral)"
 
The first one she read had the same name as her mother, Kate. Jenni wondered if this was how her mother had died. Through out the morning she read, at times revolted. Many of the stories told the most revolting things. At least, Jenni thought, the women had the true experience of death. Smiling, she thought how they were alive through out the entire process. The girl wondered what it would be like to hear the dirt falling over your casket.
 
It was noon when she realized her back was hurting from sitting so long. She was about to stand and stretch when she felt something warm and wet in the chair. Jenni looked down and saw the front of her shorts were wet. Then she caught the smell of urine and realized what had happened. Not since she was a little girl had there been an accident like this. The girl laughed it off and guessed she had been too evolved in the stories. She stood to return to her room for a change of clothes when she screamed. Jenni fell to the floor; the pain in her back and legs was worse than anything she had ever felt. "What is wrong?" She cried. Then she remembered the drug. It was working, but why did it hurt so badly?
 
Jenni managed to crawl with the pain to her bedroom. It seemed to have taken hours for her to arrive at her goal. The girl managed to climb onto the bed; her breaths were quick and shallow at this point. Her body was soaked with sweat, yet she was freezing. It could be the flu, but she knew it wasn’t. The drug was working and rigor mortis was setting in. On that thought, she noticed the smell, it was that of decaying flesh. Jenni painfully lifted one of her small hands and looked at the pale blue flesh. Fear seized Jenni; she was dying and would not have the fantasy as her mother had. Even as great as her fantasy, she was not sure she was ready for for it to happen. Hopefully, she thought, the effects were temporary. On that thought her bowels released and added to the stench of her body.
 
An hour later she realized the stiffness was getting worse, not better. Jenni decided to call her father for help. Her only hope was that he had an antidote. It took all her effort to fight through the pain as she lifted the phone and dialed the number. She heard her father answer. She started speak and realized her jaw was nearly frozen shut. Gathering all her strength she managed to speak, "Dad… help me."
 
Mark noticed the stress in his daughter’s weak voice and asked, "What’s wrong honey?"
 
Jenni could no longer hold the phone and it fell to the carpeted floor with a dead thump. She began to cry. Not long after the call to her father, the pain stopped. She thought, at last the drug is wearing off. The girl lay there unable to move nothing more than her eyes. Jenni wished she could at least clean the mess in her panties.
 
Looking down, Jenni saw her abdomen begin to swell. The gasses from her decaying body was building, she had seen it happen many times. She almost smiled as gas was released from her anus. So many times she had seen this on the corpse before they were embalmed. Her mind went to the journal, remembering how it told how the drug worked. It seemed to stop the blood from flowing to all but the organs that were needed for immediate life, the heart, lungs and brain. The rest of her body was for all intent and purposes, dead. The eyes would even dilate. It would take a hospital to determine the person was alive. Seeing the reflection in the mirror Jenni knew one look was only needed to determine the person was dead.
 
Every so often her body would spasm, Jenni knew this was normal for the recently deceased. Jenni often left the window in her room slightly open. Now she was regretting it. Flies were beginning to be attracted by the smell and swarm about her.
 
Mark burst into her room and stood frozen in shock. One look told him his daughter was dead. He rushed to her and lifted her stiff head into his arms and began to cry. He sobbed, "Why Jenni? "Why did you have to die?"
 
Jenni wanted to hold her father and scream that she was alive, but she was frozen by the same death her mother had experienced. There were no more tears left in her. The girl could only lie lifelessly in her father’s loving arms.
 
When Mark had exhausted his tears, he lay Jenni back onto the bed. He took the phone from where it had fallen on the floor and dialed. He talked in a quiet voice that she could not hear. Jenni did manage to hear one word "coroner".
 
The room was full of police and strange men. An old balding man stripped the clothes from Jenni’s dead body and began to run his hand over her flesh. The girl had not thought of this happening, but knew the coroner was searching for visible wounds. Still, his touch seemed a violation of her body. Never had a man touched her so completely, not even Johnny. Jenni thought of how he had tried so hard to rub her breast that night, but she had resisted.
 
"Mark," the balding man said, "There are no visible wounds or signs of an attack. Without an autopsy I can only guess she died from heart failure."
 
"No autopsy, Jeff." Mark said defiantly.
 
The coroner said, "I understand. I see no real need for it."
 
"Thank you."
 
Jenni sighed in her mind. The thought they might autopsy her had scared her more than her death. She hoped only her dad remembered her wish to never be embalmed. That would surely kill her. Jenni almost laughed at that thought, she was dead. At least with death as she has now her fantasy will be reality.
 
When everyone had left mark picked up her stiff body up and carried it to the embalming room. There he took a bowl of water and a wash cloth and began to clean her body. Jenni thought not since she was a child had her dad washed her. This made her smile.
 
Mark left the room and returned a few minutes later with the wedding dress slung over his shoulder. He looked at the dead body of his daughter and said, " I will have this cleaned for you to wear at your funeral. Everything will be just as you had dreamed. Its too bad you won’t be able to see it. At least I can put my fears to rest. So many nights I lay awake worried that you would come to me with the same request as your mother. I hoped your nights sleeping in the casket would sate your fantasies. I love you."
 
Mark put Jenni on a cart and pushed her into the cooler and left. She lay there with five dead bodies. There were two men, two women and a young girl no more than ten. The girl chuckled to herself as she looked at the nude lifeless bodies. All peoples’ lives they wear clothes. Once they are dead the clothes are the first thing removed. Even the shy was left for all to see their naked bodies. Jenni had been embarrassed at all the men seeing her naked. The men would have given anything to see her body when she was alive, but in death they turned their heads, pretending to not care.
 
The girl lay in the cooler. Her lungs burned slightly from the cold. The door opened and she tried to see who it was. A form walked behind her and then into her field of vision. It was Henry. Jenny had always liked the old caretaker. Many times he had been her only friend. The old man touched her cheek and said, "I know what you did and that you can hear me."
 
How, she thought could he know? As if he could read her mind, Henry said, " I have a confession to make. Many nights since I found you in the casket I would hide and watch you sleep in the casket. Even on my nights off I would creep back into the funeral home to see you. Seeing you lying there reminded me so much of your mother. You see, I know what happen to her. I know about all the others as well. Mark is a good man so I will never tell anyone. He has always treated me as if I was more than a janitor. I promise to keep your secret as I did the others."
 
Jenni would have cried if it were possible, still, she cried on the inside. She was going to miss, Henry as much as her father. Never had she imagined the pain her death would bring others. Henry held her stiff hand and then kissed her cold blue lips. He then left, leaving her alone with the dead.
 
The girl slept briefly and woke feeling the cold of the room. She knew that the cold would soon kill her even in her dead state. The door opened again and she recognized from the footsteps that it was her father. Mark pushed her body from the cooler and back into the embalming room. Jenni saw the wedding dress hanging on a hook, its loveliness hidden slightly by the cleaner’s plastic covering.
 
Mark pulled a stool next to the cart and sat next to Jenni. He began to apply the pale blue nail polish that she loved to wear. Once it was dry, he pulled white thigh high hose over her blue tinted legs. The girl smiled inwardly at the thought her dad knowing so much of the things she liked to wear. He then took the freshly cleaned, white wedding dress from the its protective plastic and held it out. Mark looked past the wedding dress and said to his daughter, " There is more I never told you. Your mother looked as you do when she wore it. The night after your birth I placed this dress on her and had a friend marry us."
 
She thought of the many times that she had worn the dress. It always had a slight smell death about it, but she just thought it came from so many years in the funeral home. Jenni now wished her father had not cleaned it. Soon though her own smell of death would fill the fine material.
 
Mark carefully worked the dress over the naked form of his daughter. It was difficult closing the dainty buttons along the back, but he managed. He stood back to look at her. The abdomen lay flatter than normal under the dress since many of the organs underneath has atrophied. Mark thought of adding cosmetic stuffing, but decided against it. He then applied makeup, only a little as she liked. Even in death she needed little much makeup, Jenni was as beautiful as ever.
 
He lifted her stiff body in his arms. Jenni’s lifeless arms swung to her side. Mark placed the girl in the casket she had slept in so many times. He closed the lower half and slid the latch closed. Hesitating, he stood looking into her eyes and then finally closed the lid.
 
Jenni lay in the darkness. Never had she dared completely close the lid of the casket. Now she lay in the darkness of the cramped confines of the casket, never to leave it again. The girl could imagine the feel of the satin against her exposed flesh. So many nights she has spent with the delicate material against her. So many mornings she had been reluctant to leave the safety of the casket. Now at last it was the sanctuary of her final resting-place.
 
The smell of rotting flesh was more prevalent in the small space of the casket. She might have gagged if there had been any muscles left for the reflex. The night seemed to last forever. For some reason there was no more need for sleep. At times Jenni thought she heard her mother’s voice calling,. but the girl had never known the voice of her mother.
 
The casket began a slow movement. The girl knew someone must have been taking her to the chapel. Although she had never been religious, others expected a Christian funeral. The upper lid of the casket was opened and the dim light of the chapel’s candles washed over Jenni. She wished she could turn her head to see the congregation and then suddenly spotted a mirror. The reflective surface gave a full view of the chapel. The mirror had been placed too strategically for it to be an accident. Inwardly she smiled; knowing it was Henry’s doing. Silently the girl thanked the old man.
 
The chapel was filled with many people, most she did not know. Jenni could only guess they were friends of her father and distant relatives who came for his benefit. In the back she could barely make out the face of Johnny, the only boy she had ever dated. Beside him sat Sarah, the closest thing she ever had to a friend at school. They both had tears in their eyes and she felt sadness for them. If they only knew she was truly happy for the first time.
 
The voice of the minister broke her thoughts. She listened to what he had to say. The minister said in a low solemn voice, "Jenni has been taken by God. He has a purpose for her. For that reason he has taken her from us at such an early age. We should not cry, but rejoice at her meeting with Christ. Here she lived among death in life. In death she is free of it for the first time."
 
Jenni shut out the sounds of the minister. She had always thought the words were corny. To be said at her own funeral they sounded more so. Instead of the minister’s words she looked into the mirror and reveled at the sights around her. This truly was just like her fantasy.
 
Thankfully the minister was not long winded; the sermon was short. The people all stood and formed a line in front of the casket. All paraded by, strangers as well as friends. Jenni wondered why strangers cared to look at the dead body of someone. Many she did know and they all had tears in their eyes. She had been so scared no one would cry at her funeral. The girl was overwhelmed.
 
The last in line was Johnny. He paused and began to speak through the tears, "I wished I could have said this when you were alive. I loved… love you more than you ever knew. I was so ashamed of the way I acted on that one date. I knew you would never want to see me again. So many times I watched you from a distance wishing for the nerve to tell you of my feelings."Johnny took a small box from his pocket and opened it. Inside was a ring. In the set was a small diamond. He then continued, " My biggest dream was to some day marry you. I bought this ring in hopes someday my dream would come true. Now I want you to have it to wear for eternity. Maybe someday we will meet again and I can tell you everything that I am saying now." He placed the ring over her stiff finger and then walked away.
 
If Jenni had known he felt so for her. She had never been angry with him. She had wanted his touches on the date, but was scared of the strange new feelings his touches brought. For a moment Jenni wished she could go back in time and not drink that vile tasting fluid. Love finally found her once it is too late to return.
 
The realization of her fantasies was stronger than the love she could have had in life. Jenni took in the moment just before the casket was closed for the final time. The click of the latch made her know she would never see light again. Until she died there would be darkness.
 
The casket moved again. The movements were uneven so she knew it was being carried. The casket was slid gently into the back of the hearse for her final ride. Each bump in the road jostled her slightly. The cramped space of the casket did not allow much movement of her lifeless body.
 
She felt the casket being carried again and when it stopped Jenni knew she was above the grave. Soon it would be all over. After sometime the casket moved again, this time downward. At times one end of the casket moved more than the other and she would be tilted slightly. The movement stopped as the casket settled on the Earthen floor of the grave. From previous funerals Jenni knew the grave would not be covered until everyone had left. The girl also knew the filling would not come slow as that from a shovel, but quickly from a loud angry machine.
 
As she lay there wondering how long it would take to die, there was a loud noise above. Suddenly the top of the casket sounded as if it were going to cave in. The wooden lid did indeed crack, allowing a small portion of earth to flow over her white dress. The second load of dirt did not hit as hard or as loud. Soon the casket was covered and a small mound of earth marked Jenni’s final resting-place.
 
Mark sat alone in his office trying to find solace in his work. He found quickly that nothing would ease the loss. The grieving man new it would be best to remove Jenni’s personal belongings as quickly as possible. He crossed the room where Jenni’s casket sat for so long. He remembered how he could never bring himself to sell it since she loved it so well.
 
In her room he saw the soiled shorts on the bed. He placed them in a garbage bag and then removed the clothes from her closet. He laid them on the bed and then sat next to them. Her smell was in the clothes; it was too much for him. He looked down at the small refrigerator and decided something cold to drink might help. He reached blindly in the refrigerator and took out a can of soda. His hand knocked something over and the contents of the refrigerator fell onto the floor. He cursed his clumsiness and knelt on the floor to clean up the mess. As he was placing things back in the refrigerator he noticed something in the back. He reached for it and pulled it out.
 
Mark looked at what lay in his hand, disbelieving. He saw the contents were half gone. Mark stood, throwing the vial against the wall. It shattered in a million pieces, sending green fluid everywhere. He screamed, "JENNI why did you do it? How could you? Do you realize what you have done?"
 
A voice at the door said sadly, "I saw her the night she drank it. I would have stopped her, but I was too late. She had drank it before I realized what she was doing."
 
Mark attacked Henry in grieving anger. Before Henry was hurt, Mark calmed down and dropped to his knees, and said, "You have no idea what she has done. This is not like the others. This was never to be used on anyone."
 
"How is it different?" Henry asked.
 
"It may take days, weeks, or years before she finally dies. I can only guess." Mark cried.
 
Henry exclaimed, "Then we must go to her!"
 
"No." Mark said in despair. "She would not want us to see what becomes of her. Her body will decay at a normal rate but her consciousness is frozen in time. We can only hope I am wrong and death comes soon."
 
Mark rushed from the bedroom to the embalming room. He opened the cooler and took out the metal box. Opening it, he destroyed its contents, making sure it can never be used again. He thought of the notes in his desk. He laid them on the top of the desk and soaked the papers with embalming fluid. Mark lit his lighter and flipped it on top of the flammable papers. Flames erupted uncontrollably. The fire spread quickly across the room, Mark and Henry barely escaped. For a moment Mark’s grief wanted to carry him into the flames.
 
Mark and Henry stood in the sunshine watching the flames consume the funeral home. He put his arm around Henry and said, “We have lived too long with the dead. It’s time to live among the living for a while."
 
The two men walked away, never looking back. With them they only took memories that would haunt them for the rest of their days…and nights.
 
The finale’