Shock of a Lifetime

Jonas was relieved to finally be getting home—well, almost home. He wasn't quite there yet since he'd promised his parents he'd stop at their place, first. When they'd asked, he couldn't see why not. It was on his way and he wouldn't have anything else to do, so he said that he would.

The only problem with the whole plan was that he when he got there, he wished he'd come earlier. He could see how packed the street was as soon as he started to turn onto it. A good portion of it was clogged up with cars—and of course, they were all up by his parents' house.

Someone must be having a party, he figured, as why else would there be so many cars parked there? And what else could cause such a mess, but a weekend get-together? Especially at that time of the year, the prime season for them.

When he got closer, he quickly saw that all the cars were actually the overflow from a couple driveways. One of which turned out to be his parents'. Because of this, he wound up parking farther away than he liked. It'd been a long trip, and all he wanted to do was collapse in bed, not getting up until the next day. But a promise was a promise, so he made the small trek.

As he walked to the door, it did strike him as strange that there were so many cars already. It was about 3pm, but that seemed like it was little early for so many people to be there already. Usually parties in the neighborhood started later in the afternoon, or in the evening. Anyone who arrived that early would probably be there to help set up. He cringed at the thought. If that was the case, that meant there would be more people coming.

They've already filled two driveways! And a good chunk of the street! If anymore people come, I'll get blocked in and have to stay overnight!

Nothing was alarming about the fact of the extra cars at his parents' place, though. He knew how they would be so generous to allow it. He wasn’t surprised to find the door unlocked, either. He was expecting it, in fact, and didn't bother to take his keys out. It usually was never locked. His parents lived in a relatively safe neighborhood, they trusted the people around them, and they were always having people coming and going. That, and they were sometimes a tad bit forgetful about it.

But he was thrown for a loop when he opened the door and realized that the party, the one he assumed was at the neighbors', was really at his parents'. And what an odd one it seemed to be.

There were people everywhere, from just the other side of the entryway, to out the patio door and into the back porch. Most of the people had somber expressions, like they were all grieving over something. A few guests shared a laugh with each other, but then they went right back to being solemn. And strangely, Jonas noticed, these people were mainly dressed in black.

Scratching his unshaven chin, he seriously wondered if he had somehow entered the wrong house. They were in one of those subdivisions, where most of the houses' exteriors showed they had been built by the same company, and were thus almost identical. The neighbors' on the other side's house was almost a dead ringer for his parents'. But looking around, he immediately recognized things that could only have belonged to his family, and he was sure he was where he was supposed to be. It didn't feel like it though, especially with the looks people were giving him--disgusted and upset ones, as if he had no right being there, especially being dressed as casual and looking as scruffy as he did.

It was likewise an unfitting party to be held there. Usually, all gathering at his parents' were happy and joyful times. But this was the exact opposite of all that. With everyone wearing black and looking sad, as well as the gloomy atmosphere, it was more like a funeral. Wait a…could it be? Did something happen when he was gone? No, no, it couldn't be a funeral. They wouldn't have that here. But…maybe it was a memorial or something?

"What's going on?" he wondered out loud, confused as could be.

A woman who was nearby turned to face him, her nose scrunching up at the sight of him she took in Jonas' almost disheveled clothes, showing how clearly repulsed she was.

"I see you must not have heard," she stated in a tone to match her expression.

"Uh no," Jonas replied. "I actually just got back into town…So, what happened? Did someone die?"

"Well, why else would we be here, and all dressed in black?"

"Who died?” he asked, nervous about what the answer would be.

"If you don't know--like you should if you're going to be here--go look at the table behind you," the woman replied rudely before turning and leaving, going to report him.

Jonas was now even more confused. Turning around, he spotted the table with the said guestbook and darted over to look. He didn't see a name or anything personal on the cover, so he opened it to a part a few pages in that had already been filled. After plenty of 'I’m sorry for your loss'-like notes, he found a name like he was looking for a couple pages later, where an old friend was talking about high school antics. He knew who it was that they were talking about right away; there was only one person he knew with that name. There was no mistaking it, but…were they here because…no, it couldn't be. It had to be a joke. A really, not-at-all-funny joke.

He closed the guestbook and picked up a scrapbook that sat behind it. It had plenty of detailed, decorated pages, with little stickers here and there. But for the most part, it was filled with pictures of the deceased. Then he saw a photo frame that had been pushed to the back. It was the same person in all the photos, confirming it was who he thought it was. This was all too much to be just a prank. There was just so much of it, and so much effort. It couldn't be that. No, this was real.

"Sir, are you OK?" another woman nearby asked him, growing concerned, noticing his face blanching.

"This can't be right…" he said weakly, still staring at the photo in shock.

"Oh, I know. I couldn't believe it either."

Jonas felt his heart start to race and his breathing quicken. The woman didn't seem to notice, and she asked how he knew the deceased.

"I don't just know him..." He took a breath and turned around. "I am him."