Death is My BFF Rewritten (Book 1 of the Rewritten Death Chronicles)

Chapter 30: Batman's Wife

HEY ALL YOU PEOPLE. HEY ALL YOU PEOPLE. HEY ALL YOU PEOPLE WON'T YOU LISTEN TO MEEEEEE. (Spongebob reference.)

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That reminds me, remember when Death was friendzoned? "Buddy." LOLZ.

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        The morning after Death vanished from my bathroom floor, I felt sick to my stomach and made my bed next to my toilet. When I tried to throw up, barely anything came out. I was left gagging on an empty stomach. I was miserable. The whole week I had called in sick to school, without my parent’s knowledge, although I was in perfect health. I, for one, was not planning on going to high school with the Grim Reaper peeping into my classroom and trying to kill me, slash sign his contract. So, I played sick a majority of the week.

        Now Karma was now slapping me in the face. Now I was really sick.

        And I had the awful feeling that it had something to do with the power I now unquestionably had. That white, terrifying light that I still had little to no control over. What was it? I was too exhausted to think about it. I crawled into bed and managed to fall asleep. When I woke up, I felt a lot better, so I forced myself to get dressed.

        For a moment, I thought about checking my email for Malphas' instructions. He wanted to help me get rid of Death. Problem was, I didn't trust anyone at that moment, or at least, that's what I kept telling myself. I didn't trust anyone, and that was why I wouldn't check my email and look at Malphas' instructions for me. Right?

         I shook myself from my thoughts. I would live a normal life. I would socialize. I would see my best friend. I wouldn’t keep in this routine that Death had me in. I would live a normal life.

        I plopped down on my bed, wearing a black t-shirt that read ‘I’m Batman’s Wife’ in yellow blocked lettering, and slipped on faded ripped blue jeans over my long legs, paired with my favorite pair of beat-up converse. I applied the usual heavy black makeup to my eyes and black lipstick, sprayed some perfume on, and then slipped my backpack over my shoulder.

        I would live a normal life.

        “I’m normal.” I flipped off the mirror. “Suck it, Death.”

          Smiling to myself, I turned to leave the room, when my bedroom door hit the wall with a crack.

        “SURPRISE! I’M EARLY!” the intruder screamed, running towards me at full sprint.

        “Aunt Sarah?” I broke into a grin, throwing my arms out. She nearly tackled to me to the ground, squeezing me tightly to her thick, fashionable sweater. As a fitness instructor, she was strong. 

        “We were going to get you in the kitchen, but I just couldn’t wait! How’s my favorite niece?” She pulled me at arms length, looking at me with large blue eyes. “Oh, I missed you! You get more and more beautiful every time I see you! Happy almost birthday, babe—“ Her eyes dropped to my neck. “Wow, what a…beautiful necklace.”

        “Thanks,” I said quickly.

        “Where did you get that?” She had lost most of her liveliness, growing abnormally serious. 

        An odd protective sensation went through me. Suddenly I was tucking it into my shirt. “I--I got at a thrift store. It’s good luck, or something,” I lied. And now I’m indebted to a warlock and a mirror man, I wanted to add, eying the vanity mirror in my room. “It’s just a piece of junk,” I added softly.