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Among the Living

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drama
mystery
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Blurb

What's it like being among the people you use to love when you're dead? What is it like not knowing how you died? Join Alex on his journey. Will he ever figure it out?

Warning: Contains Some Explicit Content

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Prologue
I sit next to them but they don’t see me. I try to talk to them but they don’t hear me. When I hug them they don’t feel me. I send them messages but they never seem to get them. They never pay any attention to me anymore. It’s like they don’t even care or if I never existed. They look at a picture of me, they start to cry. When they look at my twin brother they cry. I was completely oblivious to all of this, until around the time I turned sixteen years old. It was a Tuesday June 30, 2011 approximately 5:39 pm to be more precise. I had taken my usual place at the table next to my twin brother-who is older by only five minutes-Colton. Our mother brought out a homemade mouth watering coffee cake drizzled with butter cream frosting. With green lettering that said Happy Birthday Colton! Then her and my father started singing 'Happy Birthday.' I was so confused. Where the f**k was my cake? Since Colton and I are twins, our mother always made us each our own cake. "Umm hello?" I try to interrupt their off key singing. No one looked at me when I spoke. Were they ignoring me? This didn’t make any since. Why weren't they acknowledging my existence? Finally their god-awful singing ceased. It was about f*****g time. I try tapping my brothers shoulder, "dude, what the f**k is going on? Why hasn't anyone even looked at me? And why the f**k was my name in that stupid birthday song?" Colton never replied. He didn't even look my way when I tapped him. It was almost as if he couldn't feel me tapping him. Out of no where it hits me. I must be dead or something. That could be the only explanation to them not giving me the time of day. I take a moment and observe my family and my surroundings. They all kind of seemed to have a look of despair about them as they ate their dessert in silence. As I scan the room I notice there were no pictures of me at all. Only Colton. That’s when I came to terms that no one cared about Alexander Reese Winter anymore. I was now just history. Non- existing. Or even just a distant memory. I was basically existing among the living.

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