Mira Carter had jumped in front of a truck.
And no, it wasn’t an accident.
She had intentionally picked a very big one, a ten-wheeler she knew wouldn’t be able to stop and would actually take her life as fast as possible.
She had in fact closed her eyes and ignored the blaring horn as she thought, "Finally. Peace." Before she felt the impact of the truck hitting her.
So why on earth was she awake right now?
And why did she feel like she was sleeping on a really hard bed inside a closet that smelled like old flowers and cheap wood?
She tried to lift a finger, and it didn’t lift.
She tried to open her eyes, and not even that worked.
Her body was completely still. It was like her brain had been switched on, but someone forgot to plug in the rest of her body.
Only her consciousness was awake.
’Hello,’ she thought into the void, wondering if this was what the whole afterlife was.
’Okay, this is so weird. Did I end up in a coma instead of just dying?’ She thought as a sudden wave of cold dread washed over her.
’Oh God, what if I’m paralyzed? What if I failed and would end up lying on a hospital bed forever without being able to even blink?’
Just as the panic was about to swallow her whole, a sound pierced the silence. Or more like a voice that sounded muffled, like she was listening from underwater.
"... a complete waste of money, I’m telling you."
Mira’s thoughts immediately screeched to a halt. She knew that voice anywhere. It was the grating, perpetually angry tone that belonged to Gordon, her stepfather.
What on earth was that man doing here.
But then his next words started to clear things up.
"The bitch couldn’t pay rent when she was alive, and now she’s costing me so much fortune yet again. Just a stupid selfish bitch to the very end."
The word alive echoed in the dark space of Mira’s mind.
When she was alive?
"Oh shut up, Gordon!" A second voice joined in. And it was her mother, Mary, the woman who had left when Mira was a kid and only showed up when there might be cash involved.
"Who else would pay for her burial if not you! You’re just mad the life insurance might not pay for suicides."
Burial? Suicides?
The cold dread in Mira’s stomach turned to solid ice as the final terrible piece of the puzzle dropped. She wasn’t in a hospital at all. She was in a coffin!
They weren’t visiting her, they were burying her!
’You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!’ she screamed, a silent internal shriek of pure outrage and confusion.
’I did it! I actually died! So why on earth am I able to hear everything going on right now! Is the afterlife supposed to be this?’
As if killing herself was not enough, she was forced to hear everything going on at her own funeral.
Forced to listen to people who should mourn her simply talk about money again and again, instead of missing her or crying even a little.
"Why should I be forced to spend my money to bury her when she’s not even my daughter? I’ve done more for her than you have ever done! Where were you when she was eating my food, huh?" Gordon shot back, his voice getting louder.
"And now you show up to your daughter’s funeral like a vulture. Disgusting filth."
Mira mentally sighed. She was dead, like truly dead. Yet she was still stuck listening to these two argue as always.
She thought dying meant peace, but this was just the total opposite of it.
"My poor baby," her mother cried out, but it all sounded more like a bad soap opera. "She was always so... difficult. She would never listen..."
’You weren’t even there to talk to!’ Mira screamed in her head. She was getting pissed.
She twitched again, hoping she could burst out of the coffin and yell, but her body did not move and her mouth didn’t open.
"I suffered so much because of her," her mom went on, "she shouldn’t have done this to herself no matter what. She didn’t think of the stress and embarrassment this would cause..."
’The embarrassment? She is embarrassed?’ Mira thought. ’I am the one lying dead in a box, and she is embarrassed?’
"Don’t you dare act pitiful, you actress," Gordon snarled. "You won’t get a cent of that money should they pay! I’m the one who raised her! I fed her!"
Mary’s voice turned nasty. "Fed her? You broke her! She’d be alive if she didn’t live with you!"
They were fighting over her dead body and not because they cared, but because of life insurance money that Mira wasn’t even sure she had.
Mira wished she could laugh. This was so pathetic, it was almost funny. Of all the imaginations she had about the afterlife, this was definitely not on the list of her worst.
And just when Mira thought those two were the only ones at her funeral, she heard another distinct voice.
"She was my whole world," a man said, sounding like he was trying not to cry.
Mira’s silent heart would have skipped a beat if it could. That was Travis. Her ex-boyfriend. The guy who had promised to love her forever, only to empty her bank account alongside her best friend and then ghost her.
She had called them both for days. Texted them multiple times and got no response.
Yet he was right here? Crying?
A sweet syrupy voice responded to him. "Oh Travis, it’s not your fault at all. Everybody knows we did our very best for Mira. We all did. I don’t know why she would take this route. I don’t understand it."
Naomi.
Mira felt yet another surge of anger run through her still body. That was her backstabbing best friend, the one who had helped Travis steal every penny Mira had.
The same one who had been sleeping with her boyfriend behind her back for years!
Mira could already picture the acting going on right now. She could tell that Naomi would be holding Travis’ hand while putting on her best sad face.
Mira was seeing red. Well, she would have if she could open her eyes.
These two had stolen her money, ignored her begging calls, and left her at the mercy of shark loners. And now they were at her funeral playing the sad friends?
She started hearing more hushed whispers.
"Jumping in front of a truck? What a selfish way to go."
"Maybe she wanted pity?"
"She had always been a drama queen who liked attention. Here’s one way to get it..."
Someone else giggled.
The more she heard, the more anger she felt, an anger she could not do anything about.
This was not a funeral at all. There were no nice words about Mira. Only gossip, fake tears, and fights about cash.
As she listened to the people she’d once trusted trash her name, something in Mira finally broke. The rage burned away and was replaced by sadness and regret.
She regretted it. She regretted standing in front of that truck. Not because she loved life, but because she let them win.
They had caused her so much pain, and the least they could do was give her respect, but they could not do even that. They felt not even a little guilt.
She had died for nothing, and they were all going to get away with it.
’No,’ she thought, the word screaming in her silent mind. If only she could just get out of this box, if only she could get one more chance, she would make them pay. All of them.
But it was a useless wish. Merely an angry and sad prayer from a dead girl.
The voices soon began to fade as the sound of dirt hitting wood started. She was getting buried.
Mira felt defeated as her thoughts started getting fuzzy, and she let the darkness pull her under again, the sound of lies being the last thing she heard.
But when she woke up again, she could see bright lights this time and relief washed over her. She was in a hospital. She was alive.
The door opened, and a nurse walked in with a clipboard. She looked over at Mira and gasped.
"Ah, Miss Sanders! You’re awake!"
Mira froze.
Miss... who?