This is the story of Jack and Rose, and no, they have no relations to the Titanic I'll have you know. A cold snowy night in October is met with tragedy when a drunk driver plows into Rose's car, a nineteen year old on her way home to see her family...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
~Rosalie
"Please, take a seat Rosalie Greymore, we're very anxious to get started." the man on the t.v ordered, motioning a hand to the desks around me.
"How do you know my name?" I asked with confusion and a little fear. "Where am I? How did I get here?"
"All in good time Ms. Rose, all in good time." He came again, his previous news-like voice growing calmer.
"I don't understand, wh-"
"Please...just have a seat. All will be revealed." He cut me off, once again motioning to the seats, only this time with a nod of his head. I almost coughed up another string of questions, that was until some logic set in.
'if I wanted answers, then the best way to get them would be to sit and listen.' I thought to myself
"Very true. You're catching on." He said as if he could hear me.
"Did you just read my mind?" I questioned with demand, or at least as much as I could muster in my scared state.
"All in good time." He repeated, this time with an irritated undertone.
Not wanting to push my boundaries...or his buttons, I took a seat in the front row, folding my hands in anticipation on the desk in front of me.
"Good. Let's begin." He started, back in his weatherman voice. "This is Guardianship for Dummies, as shown here on our handy dandy white board."
I glanced back at the board he was now referring to. It hadn't changed since the first time I caught a glimpse of it. I simply turned my attention back to the television that hung from the ceiling.
"If you haven't already gathered, you're dead." He deadpanned, earning a very petrified reaction from me.
"I'm what?" I snapped, really starting to doubt my sanity. 'I must be losing it. This must be a dream or something.'
"No, this is far from a dream, although sometimes death can feel like sleeping." There he went again reading my mind. It was starting to get on my nerves real fast.
"I cant be dead, I'm sitting here, alive and well, talking to you...a man on a t.v...that can somehow hear me...and read my mind." I trailed, not liking the sound of the words flowing from my mouth. I was ready to admit myself to the sane asylum.
"Yes, you are sitting here, talking to me, a man on a television screen that can hear you and read your thoughts, but you're far from alive and well." He countered, matter-of-factly. He was really fitting the whole classroom vibe with his contradictory and corrections. I always hated teachers. And high-school. And now, come to think of it, the news.
"How can that b-"
"Don't believe me? Go ahead, check for a heartbeat...or better yet, have you noticed that you're not breathing? Or that moments ago, in the car, you had to pee so bad that you thought your bladder was about to burst. What about now? Do you feel any urges to urinate?" He cut me off again, this time laying out a lot on the line. With every word he said, the fear started to flow in.