The Mortician

When you meet your demise, You will have a pleasant surprise, of formaldehyde running through you veins. The smell of death all around you, your own body slowly decaying... The maggots eating away at your rotting flesh. The mortician laughing in the background of something funny his assistant said about you.

As you feel the last drop of blood slowly descend from your ever fragile finger, all of it replaced with the essence of death. Replaced with the ever vexing curse that used to be your life...

"Why oh, why did he have to die?" a mother asks weeping. He slit his wrists, here after, it was all his fault...

Goodbye to you. Goodbye to all. His life is over because he chose to fall.