D R O P D E A D {Completed} (UNDER RECONSTRUCTION -- 2018)

(vi) - 'Actually, Andrea, I'm rather enjoying myself here.'

I was the picture of Death when I got up the next morning – and not that pretty, white-gowned, funeral-painted style Death. It was another creature altogether.

"August," I moaned loudly, still slumped over the edge of my mattress. The door was just a crick open, so he could probably hear me from his morning-smoke position.

There was a rustling just a few feet from the bottom of the stairs – oh, so he was shamelessly chain-smoking out the front door, then. His voice echoed up towards me.

"Don't even think about it," was the chine. "And you may get dressed, you're already late."

"Damn it all to Hell," I mumbled, turning towards the wall and trying to pretend that if I stayed completely still, Time would stop, and I could get away from this all.

"Language," Cain said, sitting down on the edge of the mattress; he was bright and chipper. "You look like shit."

"Observant as always, Figment."

"Well, hurry up or we'll be late for school."

I missed a beat. "Sorry, we?"

"Yes, 'we'. As in the both of us, together." A sarcastic eyeroll. The last thing I was concerned with were these barbs, though – the thing was coming to school with me. With my human friends and human teachers.

I really couldn't catch a fucking break.

"But – but why aren't you staying here?"

"I've got to baby-sit you, haven't I?" He cooed, winking in my direction, before stepping out into the hall to give me some privacy. My throat beginning to close up in panic again, I pulled my clothes on as quickly as possible and ran out into the hall – but he'd disappeared. Hopefully not into August's path.

My heart was in my mouth as I dashed for the kitchen, slowing up just before the doorway so that it wouldn't look like I was going to puke all over my shoes, and August was sitting at the kitchen table idly. He jingled his keys in my direction as I came over the doorjamb. "C'mon, sleepyhead."

"Sorry," I mumbled, grabbing my bag from the back of the opposite chair and following him out the front door. I didn't have the time for breakfast, but frankly, I wouldn't have been able to eat it.

By the time I got into the school yard, having given my uncle a quick wave goodbye, I had gone through what felt like the five stages of grief and another seven stages of something else altogether, and it was all leaving me with that desire to be sick. How was I going to save face in front of everyone today?

Eventually, coming to my locker at the end at the end of the hallway, I was saddened – but not surprised – to be confronted with Cain leaning up against my locker. He was in a uniform of a loose black tee shirt and dark skinny jeans – well, I could go for the skinny jeans – with a flat red backpack and a pleased little grin.

"You know that you can't hang around me in school if you don't go here, right?"

"Sorted," he replied with a little smirk, jerking his thumb towards the empty schoolbag that was hanging from his shoulder. "I'm officially a registered student, Andrea."

"God, you're really intent on following me around the place, aren't you?" I muttered, yanking my books aggressively from the locker and shoving them into my back. Fucking joy. As if things couldn't get more hopeless.

"Well, of course, I do my job correctly."

And unfortunately, he was following me to class, as well. Was there no end to my torment?