New story, newww story! Alright, I know you're all probably thinking "update A Befitting Demise, for the love of God!" but I am having a mega block with that story. In fact, since the beginning of summer I've had a major block with writing in general, and this is the first time I've managed to churn something out. So, here you go. If you're wondering, yes, it's full of slash and ridiculousness. It's also kind of cliché and lame, but whatever, it's fun to write, and hopefully fun to read too.

Warning: Boylove, cursing, death, suggestive themes, etc.

Note: This is not meant to be religious in any way, shape, or form and does not reflect my own beliefs about the afterlife. It's a comedy story, so don't be offended by it. Anyway, if you're really that religious, you probably shouldn't be reading a story about gay boys.

I didn’t wake up in the morning thinking I was going to die. I didn’t have any dreams predicting it, didn’t see the slightest sign of warning, didn’t even have a mysterious bad feeling in my gut. Maybe if I had any of that psycho-psychic bullshit going for me, I would have taken a little more caution, or at least would have spent my day doing something more profound and meaningful. But no, really, it was a Saturday like any other. I woke up at noon, sat on Myspace for a few hours, popped a few pills because I was bored, made my little sister cry, and watched a lot of television. Around sunset my mom told me to “get off my lazy ass” and go buy some milk, and, since I needed a pack of cigarettes anyway, I went.

Along the few-minute walk I glared at a few neighbors, was barked at by some dogs, smoked a cigarette from my dwindling supply, texted my friends and, oh yeah, got hit by a truck.

No, it wasn’t a huge semi – which is unfortunate, because admittedly that would be pretty cool, even though it wouldn’t leave much of me behind to have at my funeral – it was just a truck. Nope, apparently I didn’t even have enough good points with God to get hit by a nice car. It was a big, blocky old Ford that was so rusty I couldn’t even tell what color it was. Well, alright, in that pathetic last moment of my life I didn’t even get a glimpse of that truck, because I was too busy sending a text message. It’s good to know that the last thing I did was something worthwhile, right?

So, while I was alive, I had no idea what was going on. The only reason I know what the goddamn truck looks like is because I’m still there. Floating just above my own body. Maybe other people would take a while to reason this out, but hell, I’m not trying to fool myself or anyone. I mean come on, I’m fucking floating above the ground, looking down at my very crumpled body. Judging on my distance from the truck, I must’ve been flung forward when the truck hit me, and judging from the odd angle of my neck, it must have broken. My eyes are still open, which is kind of creepy, but damn does my hair look good. A long, perfect swoop of black fringe in front, with blond and red spikes in back. That's what I call perfect. Well, aside from the fact that the part of my head pressed against the asphalt probably isn't looking so great...

It might seem a little odd for me to seem pre-occupied about my hair after dying, but honestly, my hair came first while I was alive, too. Still, I'm oddly calm in the realization that I’m dead. It's more traumatizing for me that half of my face is pressed into the pavement, so it'll probably be gross and scraped-up for the funeral. So much for an open casket. I guess everyone will have to just survive without gazing upon my beautiful face one more time. Too bad for them. Gee, I hope someone posts a bulletin on my Myspace so that everyone will know...

But I have more important things to worry about right now, since the guy who killed me is stepping out of the car. And... Oh God. I recognize him immediately - tousled, straight brown hair falling almost to his shoulders, septum ring, darker skin tone. Why him? Anyone but him. Of course I would end up being killed by that idiot. He probably did it on purpose. Fucking Taiten Zappa - what kind of name is that, anyway?

Of course, just as I was getting used to the idea of dying, now I'm pissed. I can't die because of Taiten, the biggest moron in school. I've hated the kid since sixth grade! Yeah, that's five years - now that's what I call a long-running rivalry. And he just killed me. Now he's looking around with a stupid look on his face, trying to figure out what that loud 'thud' was, I imagine.

"Hey dipshit, over here! Look at this! Body lying on the road! Yeah, you hit me, moron!" I yell at him, waving my arms around, but he doesn't notice. Of course he doesn't notice, I'm a ghost. I almost forgot. It takes him a few more seconds to spot the rumpled form on the road, and his tanned face blanches at the sight. He takes a few tottering steps towards my body, and then abruptly turns around and starts heading back to his car. "Don't you run away! I'm lying dead on the ground! Have the decency to at least see who you killed!" I fume at my helplessness, and float over to where he is. I attempt to grab at his shirt but my hand goes right through him. But, less than a second later, he trips and falls to the road.

"Yeah, that's right, don't walk away from me." I tell him, satisfied, and wondering if I really caused that.

He casts a nervous look around and then slowly stands up, brushing himself off before going back towards my body. Once he gets closer he freezes, eyes widening as he recognizes the body. He flicks his messy fringe out of his face and squints to see better, taking another step forward.

"Jace..." He sounds oddly regretful for someone who just murdered me. There's a strange look on his face as he bends near the body, gently turning my face to see it. He winces at the bloody, scraped-up side of my face, and I have to cover my eyes at the sight of how messed up that section of hair is. Uuugh. Thankfully, he drops my head back to the floor, and then starts waving a hand in front of my face. "Hey Jace, wake up dude. Come on. Ja-aaace." He pokes me in the side, hitting the region nicely mashed-up by his truck, and then recoils. "Eww, your insides are all mushy."

"I am not mushy." I shoot back, as if it makes a difference. "And even if I am mushy, it's probably because you rammed into my side with your truck." He doesn't even look up, staring at the non-mutilated side of my face.

"I'm sorry, man..." He says, and then leans over and kisses my cheek.

What the fuck?

Before I can react, he gets up and runs back to his car, driving away from my body without a backward glance.

It just had to be Taiten Zappa.

Please review and tell me what you think! And yes, it gets more exciting than this. Soon enough Taiten will be dead too (it's in the summary so it's not a spoiler!) and then things will just be awesome.

I have the next couple of chapters written already, so the more interest I get, the quicker I'll update!