Death isn’t the answer to anything for most people. For me however, it was the only answer. You see, I had a Kaarshian Skunk-worm drilled into my brains by a terribly impolite man named Richard; which led me to my severe neuroticism, which in turn lead me to my ultimate social demise and untimely death. Tsk, people these days. Everyone’s gunning for everyone else and never stickin’ their necks out for their friends, especially not for their friends. If I wasn’t a decomposing glob of rotten flesh I might have thrown up just a little at the thought about how most, if not all people don’t give a second thought on how royally messed up humans are. I was once one of those vomit inducing scabs. I don’t know if I really am changed, but I’ll tell you one thing… My death has made me really think about my lifestyle.

        "My death is only the beginning of this demented tale. This must be hard for you to really understand, since I’m six feet under a tombstone.” The omniscent voice paused a moment, obviously befuddled in thought.  “Well that’s my inference since I don’t really know where I am other than in a coffin. A Coffin = A Graveyard, which is filled with tombstones. Yaay.”
        “It’s important for you to know that my name is, err, rather was Erik Statin. I was born in the year 1983 which makes me, made me, 26 when I died.”  Corpsey stifled some surfacing sniffles, “My death was in the year 2009. And as I said before, Richard put that Skunk-worm into my brains, I’m not entirely sure what happened, but I do know it involved some chunky, green tinged milk that could have possibly killed someone just from the smell of it.” Erik began to seem a bit psychotic, “I hope that’s not what happened to me because I’d kick my own ass to death to save myself the humiliation. I swear I saw something moving in that milk though…”
        This strange man buried six feet under the ground was beginning to go stark raving mad from claustrophobia, or was already there.
        “Anyway, my life was full of danger and excitement; I was a spy for the American Embassy for twelve years and had to spend the rest of my life trying to find peace on a small piece of land…” Erik spoke through a grin, “Not, I was a push over clerk at a grocery store who had a serious gambling and drinking problem. I pissed away all my money on cigarettes, booze and card games, pathetic.”
        “The only thing my fruitless life gave me was a pair of black lungs, a nasty case of herpes and the love of my life; Mistress Ivy. And just to clear up the air so none of you nasty liver leeches get any ideas, I think I had the herpes before I met Ivy.” Erik shifted is weight as he spoke the words about obviously sore subject.
        “On the day of my death everything right on schedule. Pete (my dog) woke me up by unloading a humongous pile of fecal matter next to the door.” He spoke with a quick wave in front of his nose, “I forgot to leave it cracked open just enough for him to get out and crap in the living room. After I cleaned it up and showered I left for work 15 minutes late, and trust me this happened enough to where it actually should be on a schedule. My boss didn’t care because good ol’ Harold smoked so much pot in college that his brain was completely fried. Sometimes I wonder if he really knows that I even work there.” Eriks words trailed off into a whisper as his mind raced, “Worked there. On my lunch break I left work (as always) and skipped the rest of the work day and headed to my favorite place in the world, The Tin Hat. Where it’s never too early to have a few beers…” His eyes lit up with images of alcohol, peanuts, Black Jack, a television bolted to the wall above the bar, and Mistress Ivy.
        “I remember pushing open those glorious black steel doors and losing everything in my wallet. So I scrambled home. I didn’t live very far away from my work or The Tin Hat so I just walked everywhere. I scraped the doorknob with my key a few times on account of my alcohol level.” Erik chuckled, “Pardon me, officer I didn’t know I was drunk. When I got in, I still could hear myself thinking so I went to the fridge since I wanted a White Russian to shut myself up, but settled with a Green Russian.” Pausing for a moment, Erik’s stomach lurched but he continued, “Then comes in Richard, after that it becomes fuzzy, but he did call me trashy and a disappointment. What a dick.”
        “You know, I probably should have started to look to see if I can find a way out of here.”
        Who the hell is he talking to?
        “Mm, I think I should have bought a larger pair of shoes, my feet feel sort of tight”, Erik said while wiggling his toes inside his not-very-tight shoes.
        Ssshck.
        “What the hell was that?” the corpse whispered through pursed lips and narrowed eyes as it strained to hear where the noise was coming from.
        Ssshck.
        It sounds like it’s above me…
        Ssshck
        That’s a shovel! My god someone knows I’m here! Erik’s thoughts were obviously racing toward the possibility that his life was about to be saved. This, in fact wasn’t possible because he already came to the conclusion that he was dead.
        Sssh-CK
        It’s getting closer! “Down here! Hey! I’m down here!” He waited what seemed like minutes before he yelled again, “Keep digging!” Something (hopefully the shovel, Erik thought) hit the coffin with a deafening bang that bounced around inside Erik’s head, then a loud creaking noise and what seemed to be a celestial light that blinded Erik. Instantly he was engulfed in dirt, dust and rocks, he brought up his hands to block any more serious damage to his already sensitive eyes. Erik’s neck snapped backwards as his body was wrenched forward. Someone had grabbed him by his chest and pulled him upward. Erik gingerly opened his eyes and saw a silhouetted shadow upon an even darker background.
Erik couldn’t tell if this person was a man or a woman, but judging by how much his neck hurt, it was either a man or a very strong and scary woman.  He lifted his hands and tried to pry himself loose from the grip the mysterious person had on him but was stopped cold by a very strong backhand across his face. The sting burned his face and mouth. His mind was clouded with visions of his mother, this made him laugh. Mildly at first but it was the start of a hysterical fit of laughter. Erik opened his eyes again, staring at the curious shadow he chuckled, “Mom?” This was answered by another slap across his face. “Okay, okay… Dad?” he received a punch in his throat. Erik wasn’t laughing any more.
Frowning, Erik stared at the shadow once again and asked, “If you’re not family, who are you?”
        The shadow shifted around and leaned toward Erik and raised his hand up and jabbed something into Erik's neck.
       "What the fu-!.."
       A brusque voice spoke,"Sorry about this, Erik."