Death Completes Me (Newly Dead and Departed Agency Book 1)

My name is Magdaline Haynes- Mags for short- and I died on a Tuesday. How lame was that? It wasn't even an especially eventful day either. Just a normal Tuesday. I did all my usual things that day. I woke up, went to work, came home, fed my cat (whose name is Alejandro), ate a TV dinner while watching Seinfeld reruns, and then fell asleep on the couch. The next thing I knew, I was dead. They say that your life flashes before your eyes when you die. I have to say that that's not entirely true. More like AFTER you die, you start thinking about everything that has happened in your life. At least that's what I attempted to do after I came to terms with what had happened to me. Unfortunately for me that didn't happen until I watched my own funeral. The day I was buried was ironically also on a Tuesday. I would like to say that it was a grand affair. That speeches were made about my life and my family and friends sat around and reminisced about me. However, the truth is a whopping four people showed up to bury me. There was the priest, the man who had to oversee the casket, a woman in a red dress (who wears a red dress to a funeral?), and my landlord (who had found my body after coming to do the repairs I'd asked for 6 months ago). There's nothing quite like seeing your own lack of importance as the dirt gets poured over the very spot where you are buried. It was then that I'd had my so called life flashback. It didn't take long. I was 30, and had never done anything remotely noteworthy. My parents were dead, I lived alone, I worked as a data entry clerk for an online company, and I pretty much kept to myself. The only one who might miss me is my cat Alejandro... and he only wanted anything to do with me when he was hungry. It was during my rather pathetic internal musings about my existence, that I happened to notice the lady in red (yes I sang that part in my head) who had attended my funeral, had stepped up close to me and my burial plot. I thought at first she must have accompanied my landlord to the funeral, but as he had already left that was obviously not the case. As I pondered exactly who she was, she started to speak. "It always amazes me how dreadfully long it takes to bury a body." Taken aback as I was I responded without even thinking, "Well excuse me for dying and taking time out of your precious freaking day to be freaking buried! Next time I'll be sure to tell the priest to hurry it along for you!" She smirked and turned towards me. "Oh could you? That would be absolutely fabulous darling! It would make my job so much easier. Well... faster at least." "Listen here you- you Jessica Rabbit wanna be! I didn't choose to flipping die! And I certainly didn't ask you and your tacky red dress to come to my funeral! I mean seriously who wears red to a freaking funer- wait." She's still smirking at me, "How in the he- I mean... I'm dead." "Obviously." "So how in the flipping frog nuts are we talking right now?" She folds her arms under her rather large chest (the Jessica Rabbit comment wasn't far off). "Well now, darling, I wonder?" "Are yoooouuu... psychic?" She scoffs, "No." "Okay. How about some sort of voodoo spiritualist, or a witch, or something?" "Good lord no." "Ummm... are you dead too then?" "Right you are my dear." She flashes a smile at me. I'm a bit dumbfounded by this. "B-b-but how? I mean I saw you talking to the priest earlier. If you're dead too how were you able to do that?" She sighed, "Perks of the job I suppose you could say." "Umm...." She rolls her eyes at me, "I'm a Grim Reaper, darling. I've come to collect your soul and bring you back to the NDDA for processing." Holy turning tornadoes what is this woman talking about?! She sighs again and pulls out a shiny black card from her handbag. Handing it to me she says, "The NDDA, also known as the Newly Dead and Departed Agency, is where all souls are brought for processing and reassignment." Looking at the card in my hand I see the words "NDDA- your death awaits you!" appear in glittering silver letters. Turning it over on the back I see more words appear "Magdaline D. Haynes, 30. No. 66887." "Umm, sorry, but what does the number 66887 mean?" "Hmm?" She says distractedly rummaging around in her handbag, "Oh it's your call number, dear. You'll need it for when you get to processing." I stare at the card. Somehow this seems to make it all more real. "I can't believe... I mean it's just a lot to take in." "Yes, yes, boohoo and all that. You're dead. So what? Life goes on." She snickers. Just as I'm about to make a nasty comment back she yanks out another black card from her bag, "Ahah!" She says, "finally found it!" She takes a firm grip of my forearm. "Let's go shall we? I'm already late and I have more souls to attend to than yours I'm afraid." She holds her card up to her forehead and closes her eyes. "No wait!" I scream, "I'm not-" There was a loud whooshing sound and then everything went pitch black. It occurred to me that I had just been literally whisked away by some woman, who claimed to be a Grim Reaper, and I didn't even know her name.