The Short Life of Calico Flynn

As you’re reading this, I’m dead. A strange way to begin a story, but that’s just the way things are. I guess you could call me a ghost, although I’ve never really thought of myself that way. And if you were wondering, my name wasn’t really Calico. My name was Ash. Ash Calico Flynn. I never liked my first name because I felt it was too sad and morbid, which is extremely ironic considering that’s what my entire life was. A lonely dark story poisoned with horrible things. I did horrible things.

In the end I got better. Nothing drastic. I didn’t have a dramatic epiphany or some life altering realization that made me completely different as I lay dying. Nothing like that happened. I just saw things a little bit more in detail, and knew that even if I did live I would never stop, and I would never change. So I guess it’s good that I left my body and the world behind; I’m sure many people are better now that I’m gone.

I’ll tell you the whole story. My story. And maybe you’ll be better at the end.