Now

"Do you want to start yet? Okay thanks for coming here everyone. As you all know this is the prayer session for Irene Chan. Irene has just passed away, and we're here hopefully to help you come to terms with everything and maybe talk to God about it. I’m going to read a passage from the Bible now and after, maybe some words about Irene from those who knew her well."

The person conducting the solemn ceremony is a gangly, pimply, and bespectacled teenaged boy. Around him is a circle of other teens in school uniform. In the distance is a lean sinewy youth, quietly observing the ceremony. Tears run down the faces of a few here and there, sobs racking their chest.

The amazing thing is that there are actually people crying. I watch on in amused detachment. What is there to cry about? What is the point of crying over the loss of one life? Life is a bitch, and then you die. and it's not as if they actually cared before anyway.

I know that sounds quite harsh actually. But I have every right to say these things. Oh, we haven't met? My name's Irene. Irene Chan.

Death

I don't actually remember much. You hear all these stories about people who've died and miraculously come back to life. They mention bright lights, coming out of their bodies, tunnels that sort of thing. Maybe it's different for me because i never believed that heaven existed or anything.

There was a pile up. I ran in to help because I could see a woman trapped in her car. Then a car flew upside down towards me. I thought to myself "This won't hurt if I go limp" and then, nothing. No bright lights, just nothing.

"So what are you doing here?" you ask? Well that I don't know. Maybe I have to pass some kind of test before I get to move on, or whatever it is that happens after death.

I was kind of glad that I died at that particular moment. I couldn't see any plans for the future, none that I would control anyway, and although I hadn't accomplished much while I was alive, I was pretty proud of what I’d done up to the point I cacked it. I didn't believe in god - still don't, I guess, so I don't get to see you big guy! Shame...

It’s such a waste; I’ve heard some people say. Why? There are plenty of people in the world. Why does one matter? Is it because we're humans and we're all unique and special?

Everything is special. Mice are special. Do you think that if one mouse gets caught in a mousetrap, the other mice will go "squeak, squeak, squeak, squeakily squeak" which translates to: what a waste. He could have eaten so much more cheese.

That's the thing. It's not about the things you could have done; it's about the things you have done. What's the pity is that you spent the first fifteen years of your life not doing anything. In fact nowadays it twenty or even thirty and you still whinge about not having enough toys or love.

Sorry I've been ranting at you. Do you want to see what happened after I died?

After

At the wake, I had a look at my body. Well, this is the thinnest I've been since I've hit puberty, mum. And it's the most stationary I've ever been, Darryl. I'm here to listen to you now, dad. And I now hold everyone's respect, just for the single fact that that I'm no longer here.

I turn up at my own funeral. How many people can say that they've seen their own funeral?  

There's this huge collective of people here, all mourning and coming to terms with my death.

I stood by the speakers throughout parts of the funeral, only half listening to the speeches about me. There wasn't anything substantial you could even say about me. I mean I had only been alive for 16 odd years.

I saw my ex-boyfriend Darryl sitting amongst my peers from school. My ex...  

He told me he loved me once you know? But you can never tell, especially during the adolescent ages when you're not even sure of yourself let alone what love is.

He had tears spilling down his cheeks. I remember being quite angry about that at the time. I walked to him.

"Don't cry. You didn't want to share me with anyone. And once I told you that I didn't want you to sulk every time I wasn't spending every second with you because I like talking to other people, you didn't want me anymore. Come on, those tears don't make you look any better amongst these mourners. You always were more attractive when you were happy. You weren't very happy often..."

I bent to kiss his hair. His eyes closed and more tears were squeezed out.

I took one last cursory glance around. Then I walked out, before I started believing all the praises they were singing for me.