Mourning Stacey

Chapter One: Necrophilia

Staceys POV:

I always wondered what it would be like to die. When people ask me what it is like to die when I  have depression, I unfortunately cannot offer you a clear answer because I clearly don't give two fucks about the topic. 

I watch plane crashes on youtube every night around 2am and wonder what it would feel like to die in an incident like that. Of course I feel sympathy for those on the plane, Im not that much of a sad bastard. 

I wonder, 'Would you boil to death if an engine blew up? Would you fall to your death and drown in the ocean, or land your head on gravel and die on impact?' 

I keep notes on a notepad of the possible ways you could die in a plane crash, just in case I ever got on a plane. My parents knew that something wasn't right about me around the age of 13.

 I would ask grandma when she came over thing like 'What happens to our body when we die?' Of course my mother would usher me out of the room with pursed lips and a bright red face.

My parents could never find the reason to my obsession of death. I never watched movies with death in, or play violent video games. Of course my Grandma would put my behaviour  down to 'bad parenting'. Mother and Grandma would always fight about it, me in the middle. 

Im pretty sure she's s the 'devils daughter' and not yours Freya.' I once heard Grandma whisper to mother in the next room. Grandma then left the house with a loud slam of the door, then left mother crying for an hour at the kitchen table, with. a mug of cold tea next to her. 

After that, mother took me to thousands of councillors and therapists to try and seek out what was really the issue with my behaviour and being obsessed with death and all that. It took us six month to seek out that I had a condition known as Necrophilia and that there is no cure. This is where an individual is obsessed with the dead and dead bodies. Yep, I am not lying to you, this illness exists !