Not Quite Dead Yet.

"Come on, Mary Jane," Gavin said, leaning against the tombstone. Mary Jane was sure there was something tragically ironic about a dead man leaning on his on grave, idly twirling roses left for his corpse in his fingers. "Tell me how I did it. Tell me how I'm not dead. Come on, MJ. Play the game." Gavin Braxton had lived next door to Mary Jane Ward for six years. That is, until a car crash one year ago cracked his skull and killed him in an instant. Well, that was what Mary Jane thought. That was what everyone thought. But Gavin was never one to go down easy, and one night, he called Mary Jane to meet him at the cemetery, at midnight. The hour of creepy rendezvous. And, just like that, Gavin Braxton no longer belonged in the department of being dead. He was very much alive. He was sitting on his own tombstone, grinning like he owned the world, not at all caring that he was standing on an empty grave with his name on the headstone. Not at all caring that he was going to cause Mary Jane Ward all sorts of trouble.