White rooms and emo people

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  I dusted myself off and thought, chances of getting out of this Sanity-destroying room are slim, because well one; I'm dead. Two: WHERE THE FREAKING HELL AM I?!

    "The waiting room." Oh hey, someone replied! I should have been surprised or something that people other than me existed in this god forsaken place,  but, well, the shock being killed and therefore never being able to see Aerosmith live does wonders to your sense of surprise.

  Turning around, I was about to ask the question "What the hell is a waiting room?" when i noticed what the girl in front of me looked like and was rendered speechless. Yes, I, Clara the Smartass, was speechless. Her outfit was THAT badass and awesome.

 She had long black hair with cool purple streaks and matching makeup: thick black eyeliner and purple lipstick.  Her belly button and ears were pierced and she wore head to toe black: a skull T-shirt barely covering her stomach and tight skinny jeans. And with the studded spiked combat boots and fingerless gloves, the whole outfit screamed "I'M LIKE TOTALLY BADASS SO GET OUT OF MY WAY"

  "Thanks!" She grinned. Wait, what? I didn't even realise that i had spoken aloud.

  "You didn't. Reading minds is one of the perks of being a spirit guide. Hey, Celeste at your service. Im your spirit guide." Alright, time to be a total smartass.

  "No, NOT time to be a smartass." She glared at me. Okay, the reading minds thingy was starting to get irritating.

  "So...waiting room?" I prompted in a rather lame attempt to divert Cel's attention. The amused glimmer in her eyes told me that she knew what i was doing, but luckily she kept quiet.

  "You were murdered--" 

  "I kind of got the memo, Captain obvious." I interrupted, yawning in an over exaggerated way. Seriously, this spirit guide dude waits five hours fifty-five minutes before gracing me with her majesty's presence and now she's trying to bore the pants off me by stating obvious facts? Not cool man, not cool.

  Her eyes shot daggers at me, and she continued as if I hadn't rudely interrupted. Well, I'm sorry but depriving me of cookies, rock music and my dog is basically equal to Bye-bye, sucker. "--so we have to go kick some psychotic ass for revenge." Okay I take that all back, Cel was awesome in it's purest form.

  "You still haven't explained 'waiting room'." I pointed out.

  "Sorry," she drawled, "but in order to kick ass we have to get permission. So we're waiting in this waiting room, as the name implies, to see the judge to get that permission.

  Oh. So...was the judge planning to see us within the next 20 years or so?

  Cel laughed and replied, "My sentiments exactly. They'll ring that horrible bell when it's our turn to, ahem, PLEAD our case--"

  Right on cue, a screeching noise rang out. "I see what you mean by 'horrible bell', geez dude are they trying to deafen us so we'll be all in pain and have a higher chance of losing the case because they're all lazy asses and don't want to deal with us?" I commented dryly.

  Cel didn't even have a chance to reply (but I KNOW she one hundred percent agrees with me) because a wooden door materialized out of nowhere.

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