1. OF PUNS AND VENDING MACHINES

[Written 11/3/17]

Unedited

//

I was in a waiting room.

Rows of silver steel chairs lined the entire room, the naked fluorescent bulbs glimmering harshly against the spotless tiled floors. Someone had given me a piece of paper with a number scribbled on it when I first arrived here, and I was told to go to the receptionist's desk when my number appeared on the screen. Apparently dead people were pretty impatient, because the line to the sole reception desk was horrifyingly long. I saw a guy whose number was 30,278 when the screen was still on 2,908. Mine was 100,008, so I guessed that I had a bit of a wait in front of me.

I had no idea what to expect when I died, but it certainly wasn't this.

Crossing my legs, I shoved my piece of paper in my pocket and sighed. Twiddling my thumbs, I glanced around me. People of all ages, gender, and ethnicity sat in the steel chairs. Some were crying, weeping over their lost lives. Some just stared blankly ahead, their faces stoic and their eyes unseeing. A few were doing other things - I'm pretty sure I saw a woman sleeping before, although I'm not quite sure how - but most either fit into those two categories. 

Guess I'm in the minority, then. Not that I'm surprised.

"Hi there!"

With a startled yelp, I whirled around, only to come face to face with another girl sitting next to me. Long, blonde hair cascaded down her back, framing her pale cheeks. She was dressed in a ragged black crop-top, ripped skinny jeans, and dirty Nike shoes. As I watched, she pulled a piece of pink chewing gum from behind her ear and placed it in her mouth, smacking her lips noisily. Noticing me staring, she grinned and explained, "I died while chewing it."

"Oh," I said, but internally, I was confused. "So, you get to keep whatever you die with?"

"Totally! I mean, for now, at least." She waved a crumpled piece of paper with the number 93,576 written on it in front of my face. "IDK what happens after we get our sentences."

"What?" I asked, partially confused about the 'sentences' that the girl was talking about and partially shocked that she just used text talk. 

I guessed she didn't think that speaking text talk was unusual, though, and just pointed a slender finger at the receptionist's table. "Over there, see? When your number's called out you go and receive your sentence." She paused and stared expectedly at me, as if I was supposed to magically understand what was going on. Seeing the confusion on my face, she dramatically rolled her hazel eyes and explained, "Heaven? Hell? Purgatory, maybe? That kind of thing."

"Hold up," I held up my hand in the universal 'stop' sign, although the girl was literally right in front of me and probably had no intention of leaving. "So, like, the Bible's real? God and stuff?"

She shrugged, blowing a small pink bubble of gum before popping it. "How would I know? I only got here three hours ago."

So she's new too. For some reason, talking to someone who was going through the same thing as I made me feel slightly more comfortable. Considering that the screen was still only on number 2,967, I adjusted my seating position so that my legs were now tucked under me and decided to make some small talk. What harm could it do, right? Plus, it's not like I could look at dank memes anymore. "So how'd you die, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Um," For some reason, she looked oddly nervous. "Well, it's kinda embarrassing, to be honest." She twirled a piece of her golden hair around her finger, her teeth cribbling at the bottom of her lip anxiously. "Promise you won't judge?"

"I promise," I said, though I was already going through a list of embarrassing deaths in my head. In my own way, I was almost excited, although I tried my best not to be. A girl just died. Death wasn't funny.

"Well, you know. It was dark and I was out drinking with my baes, and, I don't know," she let out a soft, nervous giggle, "I must've gotten a bit tipsy or something, 'cause the next thing I know my girl Luna wanted chocolate, right? So Molly and I were like, 'Cool girl, but we ain't got no change', but then Luna was like, 'I gotta have chocolate or I'mma die' , right?" There was a brief pause as she took a breath, "Are you following me?"

"Uh..." She spoke so fast I could barely understand what she was saying, but I nodded my head. "Yeah, sort of."

"So Luna wanted a candy bar, and Molly was like, 'Dude, we gotta go home' 'cause she was the designated driver and was the only one sober, probably. But a drunk Luna is a crazy Luna, and she really wanted that chocolate. So, with me being the awesome girl I am, I went to a vending machine nearby and tried to shake out one of Luna's favourite chocolate - which was Reese's, by the way - and, well, I died."

"You died?" I raised an eyebrow, incredulous. "How?" 

"Uh, isn't that obvious?" She shot back, her tone equally as confused as mine. "I just told you!"

"No, you didn't. You just said you went to a vending machine and then died. There's a million ways you could've died! Like a heart attack, for example." 

"Heart attack!" Now she just looked offended. "Why would I have a heart attack for?! This heart's made for lovin', not for dyin', sister." In one dramatic motion, she tossed her mass of blonde hair back, shooting me an annoyed glare. 

I rolled my eyes, "Okay, firstly, that sentence made no sense, and secondly, it's highly possible for you to have a heart attack considering that you've been excessively drinking - most likely for a long time, too. Large amounts of alcohol can raise your blood pressure, which is one of the most important risk factors for having a heart attack or a stroke. Increases in your blood pressure can also be caused by weight gain from excessive drinking, and -"

"Okay, okay," this time, it was bubblegum girl who raised her hand, signalling me to stop. "Cool it, Sherlock. No need to show off."

I felt my cheeks heat up, "I wasn't showing off."

"Sure you weren't," said the girl in a tone that clearly stated she didn't believe me at all. "And to answer your question, no, I didn't have a heart attack. The stupid vending machine fell on top of me. Must've suffocated me or something. And that's how I died."

There was an awkward silence, before I stated lamely, "Oh." Then, to make things worse, I added, "Well, at least Luna has a million Reese-ons why you're her best friend, right?"

I instantly regretted saying it the moment the words left my lips. 

Bubblegum girl let out an exasperated sigh. "Girl, was that a pun?"

Cheeks flaming with embarrassment, I ducked my head down and hoped that my long, brown hair would obscure my face from Bubblegum's piercing gaze. "I'm so sorry."

Bubblegum girl sighed, before glancing up at the screen displaying the numbers. It hadn't moved much, now at 3,028. "Don't bother," she said, blowing another bubble. "You're dead, I'm dead. Who cares? Be as punny as you like, fam." She stood up in a flourish, her long blonde hair flowing, and started walking away. "Peace out, Pun Girl!" She called, giving me the Vulcan salute from Star Trek. 

Then, she was gone.

It was also then when I heard my name suddenly being blasted through an invisible speaker, "Natalie Jane Atwood, please head over to the receptionist's desk. You have a visitor." 

//

A/N:

Hey lovelies! <3

Thanks for reading this chapter! I hope you guys are liking it so far! This chapter was a bit of a filler, but I hoped you enjoyed Natalie's interactions with Bubblegum Girl. 

This chapter is dedicated to the lovely DreamerGirl122, who's been waiting since January for this book to get going. Thanks for sticking with me for so long! <3

QOTC (Question of the Chapter): Who do you think Natalie's visitor is?

Remember to vote and comment! (An author needs some motivation, lol xD)

-Nicki