Tales From Otherside

The Marvelous Death of Naomi Piper

She decided to visit her family first; it was the right thing to do. She left her small one-bedroom home and walked to their much larger three-bedroom, two-story home. It made her feel small, in more than one sense of the word.

She knocked on the door and heard shuffling behind the door. It was rather early, they may just be getting up, she thought.

Naomi was, in fact, quite wrong. In fact, she could not have been further from the right guess. They had been up for two whole hours at the time of her visit, but that was due to special circumstances; a bouquet of flowers had been sent to their home addressed to Naomi (Thomas' boss, whom Thomas consulted in regards to the address, had wrongly told him that Naomi still lived with her parents), and they were simply trying to figure out who in the world had sent it.

It was Thomas, of course, but they didn't know that. He sent a dozen roses, which were Naomi's favorite (another cosmic coincidence- the Universe was quite busy that day).

After a few more minutes of knocking, Naomi's mother finally opened the door. She was a thin woman, with thick brown hair that went a little past her shoulders. She smiled when Naomi opened the door.

"Naomi, guess what came for you!" Before Naomi could interject, her mother dragged her by the hand to the bouquet of roses. Naomi gasped when she saw the lovely arrangement, and her heart skipped exactly four and a half beats when she saw that it was addressed to her (another- nevermind. I think you're getting the hang of it now).

Unfortunately, as Naomi came to find out, no one knew who it had come from. They didn't see anyone approach or leave the door, the neighbors (whom Naomi's parents had questioned quite viciously, out of excitement) hadn't seen anything; it seemed as though it was delivered by a ghost.

Another unfortunate matter of this circumstance (there were many) was that Naomi, herself, was soon to be a ghost, and she had to tell her parents. She managed to bring both of them into the living room, and they both sat down on the large brown couch they had owned since she was a child while she stood.

She didn't know what to say. Should she be blunt, soft, a mix of the two? There were many ways to approach this, but not all of them were correct.

Naomi looked at her parents as they stared at her intently. They knew something bad was coming, and Naomi could see it on their faces. She sighed.

"I'm dying."

The word rung like a bell for a few seconds before disappearing like smoke. Her parents didn't say anything, they just nodded for a long time.

Her father was the first to speak.

"Have you spoken to your doctor?"

She hadn't, of course. She just knew. But she couldn't tell him that; he'd think she was crazy.

"Yes."

"He told you this?"

"Yes."

Her father didn't ask what it was. She supposed he didn't want to know and, for the first time in a long while, she was right.

She didn't know what else to tell them.

"When are you... When will you leave us?" She heard her mother's soft voice, and she could hear her getting choked up.

"Today."

That broke the floodgates. Both her parents began sobbing uncontrollably; on the couch, on each other, her father briefly fell on the floor. It was kind of comedic, seeing him fall, in a morbid little way.

She took the time to hug them both before she left. Her father held her for a long time, stroked her hair. Before he let go he whispered "I'm so proud of you." She didn't know what for, but she said she loved him and went to hug her mother.