Please note that this book deals with a lot of death, sometimes putting it in a rather comedic tone. If this upsets or makes you uncomfortable please do not read the story!

Blanche Forest hummed happily as she walked down the hallway. She had walked down this very same hallway everyday for just over fifty years now on her way to work. Blanche loved her job, she had yet to have a bad day. Of course some days were more difficult than others, days where a great tragedy had happened to someone, a day where there was a child who only wanted their mother and yes these days were difficult but being able to help those people was the best feeling in the world. Seeing them smile, even a little, them knowing that they and their loved ones would be ok nothing beat that.
Blanche looked at her clipboard to see who would be there today.

"Oh only four people," she muttered under her breath "There's usually more but then again I have had rather large groups recently maybe the people in charge are giving me a break."

Blanche looked at her watch and picked up her pace, she was running a little bit late. She quickly walked past the other rooms, where her colleagues were with their groups, she reached a door it read 'A153' and underneath that 'Miss B. Forest'. Blanche opened the door, five chairs were sitting in a circle four were taken.

"Hello everyone sorry I'm late," Blanche said. She got a sticker with her name on it a put it on her white blouse. She sat on the empty chair and smiled "Thank you for coming everyone, my name is Blanche Forest. I know that this can be hard to talk about for some people but please don't worry we're all in the same boat and nobody will judge you. We are all just here to talk about what has happened to you, to try to help you all come to terms with it."

Blanche always gave this speech at the start of her groups, she felt that it covered the basics.
She looked at her group there was a tall and large, middle-aged balding man named Barry Rossay. Gemma Weir a twenty-something year old girl with heavy fake tan and make-up, her black hair was in a messy bun and she was wearing skinny jeans and an off-shoulder top, she looked like a sterotypical young person. Another girl, called Hannah Rochford, had a t-shirt which read 'Saving People Hunting Things The Family Business'. Blanche didn't understand why the girl was wearing such a strange t-shirt but she didn't say anything. The last person was a young man called Kevin Neal who was very tall and lanky.

"So does anyone have any questions?" She asked

Everyone shook their heads.

"Ok, then. I'll tell you my story first. So my story began in 1925, New York City in a bank when I was twenty-three."