I was already dead.I went to my own funeral. My mother tried to justify my death by telling herself and the other mourners that I had had no business ...rinking at my age. I was only 18, too young to go to frat parties, too young to be dead.I sat in the back row crying over myself, but I couldn't justify my death the way my mother had. I noticed a really cute guy get up and walk out to go to the bathroom. I thought for half a second about following him and mentally kicked myself. But then I. Looking at towards the front of the house I saw his car. I wondered how long he had been here. “Where are you?” I asked, walking into the hallway and heading for the front door. I opened the door and stepped out onto the front porch, but he was no where to be seen. “Come find me,” he said before there was a click. He had hung up on me. I growled lightly to myself and began to make my way through the house. I checked every room downstairs, but still nothing. I was starting to get a little. More

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