Tony pays a visit to explain it all

Haven't been back for long when I get a visit. I haven't quite worked out how this being dead thing works. Like where you are and what you do. If you stop to think about it, it's really odd - like I don't seem to remember eating or sleeping or anything like that, but I obviously have got somewhere to go, because I went there to get changed into these clothes, for example - but it isn't a house, it isn't really where you live, because you're not alive. There just seems to be a "place" - somewhere you are, even if you're not real - and people can kind of call round to see you, even though you aren't really there. It gives you a bad headache if you think about it too much.
Anyway, Tony turns up to see me, wherever it is that I am. My place. He says straight off that he wants to say sorry for messing me about, and that he's come round to explain. I'm tempted to tell him not to bother, but he looks genuinely remorseful, so I let him begin - whether I'll let him finish is another matter, though.
He tells me that there was a big problem getting away - that she doesn't trust him, so she had made up things he had to do before he could leave. He says that she often does things like that - that there's a really big issue about it almost all the time. He says he'd like to explain it to me, because he thinks I'll understand.
My first reaction is to say - "You mean that your wife doesn't understand you, you poor dear", and see if he gets it -me being ironic - but I decide not to just yet - I've got a strange feeling this might be interesting, and he does look so sad too, and that's something I always have found hard to resist in a man. Sad eyes, and a pretty face.

So he starts to tell me about how he got to be an item with Persephone and where all the problems have come from for her, plus why he's so good at counselling people who are expecting to be rescued. It turns out that he's been rescued himself, and that he gets rescued regularly because he has to die every year. "Every year ? That sounds like it's no fun at all "- I say - "how come? "
He says that if he didn't die every year the crops would fail up there, the seasons wouldn't change and it would just be all barren wilderness.
Hmm. Maybe or maybe not, I think.

Apparently they use his dead body to make things grow. And if he didn't get to escape from down here every year, by being rescued, that the same sort of thing would happen - except that the seeds wouldn't grow and there's be no spring and so on.
That sounds pretty important stuff, I say, thinking he's maybe not quite right about all this - maybe delusions of grandeur or something, but he really does seem to believe it.
So I ask him how did it all start? And he tells me that when he was a lot younger he had a bit of a thing for Aphrodite - or to be more precise she had a bit of a thing for him and that it all went badly wrong, and that's how he ended up down here.
He says he'd like to tell me all of it, but he doesn't know if I'm interested - and he tells me he's not got long - apparently he's due to be rescued very soon himself, and he wants to make sure I'm OK before he goes.

I'm beginning to think his motives aren't what I first thought they were, but I'm still not sure I trust him - it all sounds a bit like those blokes who pretend to be related to gods just to get off with you. But in the end, I decide that maybe it's worth hearing so I let him tell me the whole story. In his own words. I'll tell you what I think later.

A Date with Tony - or not

Doubts overcome for now , I head off to the rendezvous.
That's not quite it - I may have overcome the doubts, but I'm still very apprehensive. I really don't know what's going to happen. I've got a horrid feeling that him up there will arrive all of a sudden to rescue me, and he'll think I'm two-timing him, so he'll go away again. The thought that that might actually happen scares me quite a bit. At times I seem to have forgotten that I really don't want to stay down here, that I want to be alive again, that have a life to go back to. You know, it seems to me that the longer I'm down here, the less I remember about life up there - how nice it all was, having him around, even if he did keep messing things up with the hordes of wild animals that he'd charmed. Right now, I think I'd give almost anything to be plagued by things like that - maybe hundreds or even possibly thousands of wasps that he'd summoned with a song, if only I was alive, up there and with him. You know how much I hate wasps, so that's rather a big deal for me. It all seems so confused and so long ago - like a different world. Which in a way I suppose it is, isn't it.

And now here I am, off on a date with another man. Someone I hardly know, but who seems to have charms and powers that I don't know how to deal with. In case you are wondering, I've gone for the "modest" look - nothing provocative, basic stuff - if he wants me, it's going to have to be the real me he wants, not some bimbo airhead who's dressed up to kill and pull.

When I get there, he isn't there yet. Normally that would be irritating, but not desperate. In his case, I start wondering if either he's changed his mind and got cold feet about me, or that maybe she won't let him out, because she knows what he's up to, and then I think maybe she's found out who I am and will get me next. That's not something I find comfortable to think about.

I'm also thinking about how long I have to wait before I can run away and tell him it's his fault because he didn't show up. Not just yet, obviously. So I sit and wait.
Then it happens. I get a message from the waiter that he's been held up and will be there as soon as he can. With apologies, a bunch of flowers and a bottle of champagne - until he can get here. That kind of makes my mind up. Nice though it all is, it seems obvious to me what he's after, and I'm not sure that's what I want - and he seems far too sure of his charm, too. He obviously thinks I'll wait for him to show up when he's ready to, and that I'll do whatever he wants. So I decide to walk out. I tell the waiter to tell him thanks for the thought, the flowers and the champagne but something else has come up and I couldn't wait for him. And then I take the flowers and bottle with me and go. That should make him think. At least he won't think I'm a pushover, waiting on his every word with bated breath. Now we'll really see how keen he is. One other question still strikes me though - why am I bothered ? That's a good one. It's part of the waiting bit, I reckon. Let's see what happens.

Causes of Death

Hades has just called me over to see him - apparently they've finally got the lab reports back on what killed me, and he thinks I could do with knowing, says it could change my perspective on life. He actually looks a bit surprised. Ok, so I'll play along a bit. I agree to go to his office and he tells me what the results say. And he's right - it really is a surprise and rather a nasty shock.

They've found traces of a special kind of poison in my blood - the sort of poison that only a god or goddess could come up with. It's one that doesn't really exist out there - it has to be made specially. Apparently this one's about 10 times as poisonous as a snake bite, and it kills you so quickly you don't even know you're dead. The lab results also say that I didn't eat it, or drink it but that at the exact moment the snake bit me, a poisoned dart hit my ankle and that was that. A very accurate shot - apparently it hit exactly in the middle of where the snake had bitten. The only way they spotted it was because snakes don't usually have three fangs, and there were three tiny holes in my ankle. So my theory about who got me goes out of the window straight away- there's no way that my sudden demise was anything to do with that slapper or any of her friends. She couldn't have hit an elephant's ankle, never mind mine.

It does, as he suggested it would, make me have a different outlook on life, and for some reason, it doesn't make me feel too good. Not at all. I've gone all my life trying not to upset the gods, in fact I can't think of anything I've done that would piss them off enough to make any of them do this to me, not ever.
Now I really do feel paranoid. Why would one of them do this to me? And if they'd do this to me then, what chance have I got of (a) escaping from down here, and (b) surviving long enough after I'm rescued to make it worth doing. Mortals trying to kill you you can just about cope with, but gods ? No chance of escaping them for long. Great. I feel like I'm doomed - but I still can't work out why me - I've done nothing wrong that I can think of.
Hades says that it does happen sometimes - mistaken identity and stuff like that - but he reckons that doesn't apply in this case, it all seems to be too accurate, too personal - he suggests that, rather than me, it might be down to someone I'm close to - and that maybe I should ask him up there if he's done anything to piss off a god or two. I say that I would, if he actually turns up down here to rescue me - otherwise there's not a lot of point, is there ?

How does he do it?

As soon as I get out of the room it's like someone has turned the lights on (or off, depending on how you see it) and everything shifts back into perspective - almost like he never existed - and that makes me wonder what exactly is going on - there must be something about being in the same room as him that makes you think like that. A very odd feeling, that one, a lot like being hypnotised. I'm not sure I like that feeling. So how do I deal with all of that ? I need to look at what I want and what choices I've got.
Yes, I know he's really incredibly cute and fanciable but (a) he's spoken for - and given who she is, when she speaks, it stays spoken, believe me!
And (b) I am ( well I was before I died, anyway) engaged to someone up there who is, even as we speak, heading down here to rescue me. Or so it would appear. So I'm spoken for too, really.
And finally, (c) there's definitely something odd about a bloke who can make you feel like I did when he's there, wanting to run away with him and forget everything and then you find it wears off when he isn't. Odd, as I said.
Looking back now, it makes me shiver a bit - I don't like to feel controlled like that, not at all. So it would probably be a good idea to keep away from him.
That gives me a problem though, because I've arranged to meet him later to talk about things. I can't really cancel, it might offend him - so I guess we'll just have to turn up and see how it goes.
Look at me - I've gone from totally confident about what I want to being totally scared about what might go wrong - and all of that in less than five minutes. I don't like that feeling, not at all. It isn't like me one little bit. I don't do that. So now what do I do ?

I know everyone thinks I'm fickle and superficial - well, I do kind of give that impression - but deep down I'm not really like that, it just doesn't suit me to let people think they can control what I do - I've got to be in control enough to feel that I can make my own decisions. Even if I don't really.

Yes, I do know that my decision making hasn't exactly worked out as I hoped - otherwise I wouldn't be down here. That's pretty obvious, but we all know that sometimes things don't quite go according to plan.

So, what do I do now ? Do I stay faithful to him up there or do I try for something more with Tony? He hasn't been faithful to me, I know that, but I'm feeling all confused about what I should do next. I'm also not sure what Tony wants, either. He might just be interested in my mind. Don't laugh, it is possible. Or he might be a bit of a bastard and be after another notch on his bedpost. I can't really tell what his intentions are, it's all a bit confused.

I usually play things by ear, you know, go with the flow, no big plans, although sometimes I do try to make things happen, but I'm not sure that'll work down here. My judgement does seem a bit off since I died. That's true to some extent, but now I come to think about it, though, I tried to plan the "event" that led to me actually being down here in the first place, and I thought it would work, too, so that wasn't exactly what I normally do, and as it turns out it wasn't smart planning either.

All of that makes me start thinking - why did I make that plan ? If it was so unlike what I'd usually do, what made me think it was a good idea?
The more I look at it, the less sense it makes. If I'm spontaneous, which I like to think I am, what on earth made me plan that ? It's not like it was something easy - no - it was something so complex that lots of things could possibly go wrong. Ans some of them did, which is why I'm here. That gives me another very strange feeling - something else that doesn't make sense to me.

To come back to the present, I realise that it's getting closer to decision time about how to play this one all the time. Now I've only got 25 minutes to go - and it will take me at least 15 of those to make my mind up what I want to look like, and obviously that will depend quite a bit on what I want to get out of it. Either I need to make him want me or I don't. So what do I want ? I don't know for sure, at least I don't think so. So what do I do about it?
Maybe I should toss a coin.
That sounds a good idea. There's no shortage of those, everyone who comes down here has got one to pay for the ferry (usually covered in spit, because it's in their mouth, so it's a bit gross) and all that Charon does with them is chuck them onto the river bank. Well, there's nothing down here for him to spend it on, so there's no point in him hanging on to them, is there ? Plus there is the question of why anyone would want to hang on to coins that are all slippery with spit, snot, whatever - it's not exactly fun is it. If I was him, I'd try and persuade families to put the fare in a little pocket for him rather than shoving it in their mouth. It's not hygienic at all.
So I go and pick one up from the bank, wash it, and decide that I'll say heads I wait for him up there, tails I make a play for him down here. Hmmm. Tails. So I say best of three. OK - it's heads this time. That's 1 each. Ready ? here we go.
Tails - again. So I say to myself that we'll go for best of five.
I think you'll agree it's becoming clear that I've decided what I actually want, but the coin - or fate - seems to keep saying something different. Now it's Heads again - that's 2 each. So now it's really crunch time - wait for it - here it comes - Tails. Crap. Not what I wanted.
I don't think I can really justify going for best of 7, even if it's telling me to do something I really don't want to do. I have a horrid feeling it will come out with the same answer anyway if I do take it further. It just seems to me that down here I don't have that much choice about what I do. Fate seems to be giving me a rather big hint. So I'd better just get on with it. A bit half-hearted, though. Better go and get ready. Got to look my best.

All about Tony

So now I've got to meet Tony. I've got an appointment with him - first thing. Well, you have to ask, don't you. Everybody's said he's special, so come on then, tell me. Exactly what is so special about him ? There's obviously something, because all the other dead girls giggle and go all girly when they mention him and all the dead blokes go Huh! and mutter stuff under their breath. Obviously issues there. I've heard that sort of thing before and it usually means trouble.
In case you were wondering, yes, now I've been here a bit longer, I'm getting on a bit better with the other dead people - well, what choice do you have ?
It's a bit like being the new girl in an office - once you've been there a while you stop thinking they're all a bunch of weirdos and join in with stuff. Mind you, they often are a bunch of weirdos, it's just that you stop seeing how strange they are, because you see them every day.
This place isn't any different, really. I still don't go much on the "you don't have to be dead to live here, but it helps" poster. It was a bad enough joke up there - down here, it's not even that funny.
Anyway, enough of that, let's go back to talking aboutTony.
The way they all talk about him, he seems to have a lot of clout with the powers that be. And I mean real clout. It seems that whatever he says goes. Is he the chosen one or something ? Is he due to get resurrected and so can do pretty much what he wants ?
It appears that he's got his own office and "counselling" suite down here, and his own secretary too, who makes all his appointments for him. Probably does a lot of other stuff as well, if I know blokes and work, for which he will take the credit. Men usually do.
I try to find out a bit more about him, but all I get are just the girly giggles and the blokey grunts. And raised eyebrows. No help there. None whatsoever. It's all a bit of a mystery.
So anyway, then it's time to go down there - it's in a really nice bit of Asphodel, nice views of the Styx ( if you can call anything with that river in it nice) and there's some pretty plants in the waiting room - well, until you take a closer look. Pomegranate trees, if I'm not mistaken. Not quite in fruit, but heading that way. So I'm thinking - someone's obviously got a bad sense of humour in there.
I'm standing outside, by the reception desk, and his secretary, who's a real gorgon - I don't mean she really is - otherwise there'd be a few statues round the foyer - but she's a bit like someone's mother, no way is she easy on the eye, and she's got a bad atttitude to go with it - snaps at me to sit down and wait. So I do.
Wait for quite a while - I don't think it would be smart to ask, after all, down here you tend to get comments like "what else have you got to do all day? It's not as if you're dying to go somewhere"
Then the secretary gets the call from him, summons me and I go in.

So - now I find out what all the fuss is about. And how. He's gorgeous, and I mean gorgeous. If I wasn't already, I'd say he was drop-dead gorgeous. Probably - no, definitely - the best looker I've ever seen. And I mean ever - not just ever have, but probably ever will.
My god, he's beautiful. Eyes that you could fall into and lose yourself, a face that looks like - oh, everyone's dream of what a man's face should be, a smile that would melt a glacier and a body that's well, just - you know, muscles in all the right places, and none where they aren't needed - just the perfect shape. And then he says Hi and gives a little laugh with it, and it hits all over again - his voice - it sends shivers up your spine. The voice, the laugh, just gives you tingles - you want him to say something, anything - even the speaking clock would be like a heavy chatline if he was doing it. Wow !
And he's got a grace about him that you can't really describe - when he moves, it's like watching the planets orbiting the sun - or a bird in flight, just perfection in motion. You just want to watch him, in case he moves.
If you can think of all your favourite film stars and put all their best features into one person, that'd be our Tony. I won't mention names, because we might not have the same taste, but believe me, he tops the lot.
I'll be honest, my first thoughts are not ones I'd want to share with anybody. Certainly not. Far too rude. Need to take a cold shower.
So anyway, then I think about what are my second thoughts - and first up - he's got to be gay. Just got to be. In my experience no-one that good looking has ever been straight. Never ever ever ever ever. Not a chance. No way. That's just the way it always is. Not fair, maybe, but that's just how it always seems to turn out.

Then I think - more than think, maybe I hope a bit - perhaps he's bi, goes both ways - and that would give me a bit of a chance with him. The really worrying thing is that right now I reckon I'd be willing to work on it. Just for a while, just to see if he was. Still think he's gay though.
And then I think about the gorgon secretary. And I think a bit harder. He's the most beautiful man anyone's ever seen, so it stands to reason he could have his pick of secretaries - male, female, whatever.
If he was gay, he'd really appreciate a looker, someone aesthetically pleasing, someone really easy on the eye, someone all the straight clients would really fancy, and probably a bit of a bimbo, so he could be all superior with her, they'd think she was his bit on the side and his boyfriend wouldn't be threatened by it, he'd think it was a laugh.
Same would apply if he was bi - except she probably would be his lover as well, and still not a real threat.
And if he was straight and in charge, he'd definitely do the same - pick someone really cute because he could. And she'd be his mistress if he wanted and be glad to do whatever he asked. Work and other stuff. I'm about to put myself down for the job, or at least apply for it, when the awful truth sinks in. And then it becomes really, really obvious. He's not gay, he's not bi, he is straight - only he's not in charge. There is someone else involved in this, someone who can tell him what to do, someone who can decide for him that his secretary is going to be an old(ish) bat who is as attractive as Medusa on a bad day. That means he belongs to someone, and that someone's got a lot more clout down here than even he has. And it's got to be a woman. Probably an older, richer, more powerful woman. That's Not Fair. Even less fair than him being gay - you know you can't win there if he is, but now it feels like you could win, just that someone has loaded the dice so you never will. If he can't even pick his own secretary, he sure as hell won't be able to do anything interesting with anybody else, either.
You know, it's worrying me quite a bit that I've almost forgotten about being rescued - which is very odd. Maybe finding him with that Penny has changed how I see him, or maybe he was never that good in the first place. Or just maybe our Tony does have some sort of power over women. I guess I'd need to be away from him to find that out for sure.
Right now, I've got this strange feeling that I want to find out more about Tony and this mystery woman who pulls his strings, who can decide he has an ugly secretary. She must be really powerful down here. So who is she ? I've just got to find out.
Anyway, now he's Mr Professional Counsellor - he wants to talk to me - well, actually, he wants to listen to me - he asks me to tell him all about it. So I do. And I mean all - everything, even stuff I've kept secret from everybody else including my plans, the snakes, setting it up, being rescued, the stuff about him and Penny, all the dream stuff, the lot. Whew. He looks a bit taken aback by it all - as if it's all a bit too odd. And then he smiles at me. Just once. And my heart does several circuits round the room and winds up in my throat. Not what I need right now. My pulse rate is going through the roof. I didn't realise it got so hot down here this side of Tartarus. Then I realise it's just me, blushing. More than a little, too. That's worrying too - I don't usually do that. Not my style. Not at all.
So having listened to what I have to say, he tells me that everything I've done is perfectly normal for someone in my situation, and that in his view, he thinks it would make sense for bereavement counselling to wait until either I'm rescued, or it's obvious that I'm not going to be.
He says he'll square it with them upstairs about the dreams and that - and to come back and see him if himself doesn't show in the next few days.
What a man. My hero. There's just one issue though - now I do want counselling, well from him anyway. So how can I make that work ?
Make out that I'm getting really upset by being left waiting down here ? He might go for it, but he's very professional. Wouldn't really get me anywhere. So I obviously need to find a way to get him on his own away from work. Away from being a counsellor. So when the session's over, I decide to make a bit of a play for him - well, why not - and so I ask him if he ever goes for a drink or something after work with his clients. He says - he doesn't usually - not at all, it's kind of against the rules, bad professional conduct and so on. But, he says, that because he thinks I'm about to be rescued, and I won't need counselling after that, he'll make an exception in my case, as long as it's not for too long, as he says she might get a bit jealous if he's out too late. So I ask, all innocent, who do you mean? And he tells me. As if it was so obvious to anybody. Persephone. So now I know who the mystery woman is. It all makes some sort of horrid sense. The most powerful woman in this world, bar none. Great. Now I know what I'm up against. Not that it helps to know - the queen of the dead is sure as hell not someone you'd want as an enemy! Not even if you were alive, but certainly not if you're dead yourself. No way. Could get very nasty.
So we still make an arrangement to go out later on - about half six or so. He says he knows somewhere where you can just go and talk without being disturbed. So I agree to meet him there. Feeling a little bit apprehensive about what I'm getting myself into here, but quite looking forward to meeting up with him and talking about things. He's so cute. I'm not so sure of what I want to happen here - not sure about my motivation - I'm about to be rescued, by the man I love, supposedly, and now I'm not sure I want to be, well maybe not by him, anyway. And that makes me feel odd too. So now what do I do ? Not an easy situation, I'm sure you'll agree. Anyway, I'm fed up of waiting. I've never been the patient type. I'll just go with my instinct, seems to be the right thing to do in a way. See what happens. But why do I feel as if it could all go so wrong? Maybe that's part of the problem - sometimes your instincts aren't quite right, so you go with something that seems right, but isn't. Too late to stop it now, let's just see what happens and sort out any problems later.

The Power of Suggestion

You'd think it was easy to appear in a dream, wouldn't you. You're dead, you want them to remember you, you turn up, mutter some sweet nothings or some home truths and that's it.
But no. I can't believe how bureaucratic it all is. It seems that to do it within the rules, you have to submit a script - including what you're hoping to get out of it - to the custodians of deathness, so they can say whether or not you can do it.
If they say no, you have to rewrite it and try again.
And guess what - they don't like either of my scripts. They tell me I'm being unfair to them up there - that making people feel guilty is a "bad thing" ( that's part 1) and that trying to get someone killed (or several people) by making someone else angry is another bad thing, in this case a "very bad" thing ( that's part 2).
They tell me I'm only doing it out of revenge, which is not an "appropriate emotion for a dead person" and that I need to be more prepared to come to terms with things - accept my passing - and try not to cause problems for those who knew me who are still alive - apparently they must be traumatised enough by losing me, so they don't need to be reminded of me and made to feel worse. It's not fair on them. And so they refuse permission. Crap. What about not being fair on me ? So now what ?
I can either become all pink and fluffy and girly and not bother to say a thing or I can ignore it and just go ahead anyway.
So I work it out - if I do that and it doesn't work, and he doesn't come and rescue me, I've got really big problems because I will have "broken the rules" , but on the other hand, I don't want to spend any more time down here than I have to. No way.
It isn't really a choice is it? Pink and fluffy I'm not. I might have given that impression, and girly I might be on some things, like spiders and stuff like that, but underneath it all I'm hard as nails. When I want to be. Well, maybe.You can make your own mind up on that one.

So I'm going to go ahead with both of them in one night. Break all the rules and just do it. Patience? tried it - hasn't got me anywhere - so what's the point ? I'm going to just do it. Well, honestly, what choice have I really got ? I've got to do them both - and quickly or I'll get stopped by the death police before I can do either of them. They know what I was planning to do, so I've got to be careful.

So which one first ? My first thoughts are that it's probably easier to do Penny's bloke - it seems pretty straightforward - although now I come to think about it, he doesn't know me. Hasn't ever met me. So why would he believe me? A lot's going to depend on how suspicious he is. The impression I get is that he does trust her quite a lot - well, so she says. Mind you he is, as I've said before, no paragon of virtue himself. Makes up a lot of stories, if you ask me, to try to cover his tracks while he's busy having it off with all and sundry on his travels. So whatever I do has got to be credible. And make him jealous. That might not be easy without really good evidence, which I don't have. Have to think about it. Maybe leave that one for a bit.

So then I think that maybe it would be easier to sort my bloke out first - at least I know what presses his buttons, and I do know what I want him to do.It might be easier to start there. Get my ideas together and let's go. No messing. Guilt-trip and rescue, here we come.
I'd got it all worked out, including all the sobs, tears, moans and whimpers. So I go into his room. Oh my God - that wasn't what I expected - I may be too late. I thought I was going to be playing for an audience of one, but he's not alone. She's there with him. I'm thinking, you bastard, how could you ! Lonely and sad I could understand, but lonely, sad and screwing someone else is another thing altogether.
This is now so much more difficult - and not just because I'm furious with him. I'm really hurting about this. It's just not fair - I can feel a lump coming in my throat - like I'm about to burst into tears - and so I think I can't have that, I've got to do this and get out, then I can cry in peace if I want to, and work out how to get revenge on her for this. So, let's look at what I've got to do now - I either need to appear to two people at once or I've got to work a lot harder on him to make him feel a lot worse. His ego's just had a bit of a boost with her throwing herself at him - so now he's got a level of immunity to me there already.
Mind you, on the other hand, the footage of the two of them together should play pretty well with plan 2 - the stuff for her bloke. Don't need to allude or hint now - I've got concrete evidence for that one. Pity that's less important to me personally than getting him to fetch me back. And when he's done that, he'd better watch it - I don't go for infidelity, so he'll have some explaining to do anyway. And more than just explaining too.
I decide I've not got enough energy to work both of them - well, not in one night anyway. If I survive this one, she's got screaming nightmares for at least a month. Or maybe a year. I can guarantee that. She deserves it. Oh yes, in fact I'm really looking forward to that!
But I do need to really get to him. So back to what I'd rehearsed - pain, suffering, wailing - I think that's what will work on him, he always has been a bit of a wuss - but I've got to add a bit more drama now - so I appear, in my wedding things, the things he buried me in, crying and wailing and begging him to save me from the monsters that live in tartarus - and I've got the chains, fires and sharp instruments all there for him to see, and I show him what they'd do to me there unless he comes and rescues me. And I pretend they've already started on me. And then I cry some more. And I say something like if it hadn't been for those snakes I'd still be there and that I'm so lonely without him, and he must be missing me too...like he is !! Someone said I was a good actress - so I give him the performance of my life ( so far).

To give him credit, he does wake up with a start in a cold sweat, and starts talking to himself about it. Not happy talk, either. And then she wakes up too, because he has, and he's talking to himself, and she asks him what the matter is.
He tells her thinks he's made a big, big mistake - a really, really big mistake - and asks her to please forgive him, but he really shouldn't be there with her - he was just trying to forget his pain and now he knows that he can't live without me. It was all a big mistake. Well, that's OK for starters in my book. Exactly what I wanted to happen - except without having to explain it all to her, that is.
So then she gets all tearful, and says she hopes that she hasn't upset him too much and that she always thought it might be too soon, she was worried that he wasn't ready to let go and move on yet, but that the moment seemed to be right when it happened. She's conveniently forgotten about the fact that she was trying it on, pretending to be as much like me as she could, and she's forgotten the wanderer and that she's cheating on him, but that's how she is, I guess.
If it wasn't about me, I'd almost feel sorry for them both. A real mix-up of emotions and all. Anyway, she gets dressed, gets her things and goes - asks him to call her if he needs her- says she hopes they can stay friends, even though this has happened. That's even better. No chance if I have my way, you manipulative cow.
So there he is, finally remembering at last what he promised he'd do, looking at my photo, getting all upset, telling himself he's got to do it and that he's got to start packing for a journey. A long, long journey. Yes ! Result ! And he does start packing. Reckon it's time for me to go. Job Done.

So now I have to decide whether I do part 2 as well? Have I got the energy ? Do I really need to do it right now ? I decide that that's enough for one night. So I've broken the rules once. Either he'll turn up soon to rescue me, in which case the powers that be can do f all about it, or I'll have another shot at it later. We'll see what happens tomorrow. Time for me to get some sleep - if I can forget about what happened up there - it still really hurts, so I can cry myself to sleep. I know he won't be sleeping much for ages, and for some reason that makes me feel a bit better.

So What's going on up there then?

Been up there to have a look. Had to come back down here though, because I was in danger of getting seriously upset again and I might have been tempted to kill someone. Not sure if I can do that, being dead myself, but I certainly would have tried. I'll give you two guesses as to who, and the second one doesn't count. If you don't get it first time, just forget it. I won't even say - it's so obvious.
So there they both are, round at his place, talking about me and him and me and death and him and life and her and life and how her husband doesn't understand her and how she can't wait for him for ever.
Like she's tried waiting! She's had more boyfriends while he's been away than you could count on the fingers of ten hands. So I'm thinking - nice one - there you are making a big play for him and I'm barely cold enough to put in the fridge on a hot day. And as for him, well he's beginning to weaken, I can tell. She's getting closer and closer to him all the time - and what makes it worse, she's dressed herself up to look like me - same style of clothes, same hair, same make-up, she's even pinched my perfume, the cow! Although she does look quite a bit older, if I may say so - well, she is, but it's still quite creepy. Like looking at yourself in twenty years time. Brrr!
If he offers to sing for her, then I'll swing for both of them - that's a promise.
She's telling him that he needs something more stable, more steady, less flighty and fickle - does she mean me, the cow ? How dare she !
An older woman she says, someone who's lived a bit and knows what's what. Oh yeah, I think - what's what ? Like what if her homicidal husband comes back from beating up the Cyclops and fighting off nymphs and stuff like that ?
If he knew what was happening, they'd both be down here with me - and quickly - and he wouldn't be able to rescue me at all - unless he learnt how to sing with his head attached to the wrong end of his body. That's what's what if you ask me.
It's at this point I have to go back down before I end up doing something I might regret. Something that might disturb things, something that might make them think I'm not quite dead yet, and that would be against the rules. And I'd end up in big trouble. Which is kind of ironic - how much more trouble can you be in than being dead ? But that's how this place gets to you - you start following rules made for dead people, even when you don't really think you are.
So while I'm on the way down, I get an idea about what I need to do. Well a couple of ideas actually, but let's put first things first - I need to get him to wake up and realise what he said he'd do, then get his act together and get down here and rescue me. Now.
Slight problem though - because I'm dead, I can't just turn up out of the blue, have a little chat with him, and point out that he did promised to come and fetch me from down here if I died, that I think he meant it, and that now I am actually dead and so what is he waiting for. Well I could, but I'm told that's against the rules too.
So how do I get round it ? I need to make him think about me and how he needs to rescue me from down here, and to do that, I need to talk to him or at least show up somewhere he is, to make him realise. Now I know that some people do see ghosts and spirits and stuff and that sometimes they have dreams where dead people speak to them, so maybe that's a possibility. I think that might work, if I pitch it right. So that's the new plan.
But how do I actually make it happen - I don't know what I'm allowed to do without them stopping me. I'm obviously going to have to have a quiet word with the man down here and see how it all works. So I go round to the office. His secretary says I need to make an appointment, but when she asks, it seems as if he want to see me too, so I get to go straight in.
We have a chat and he seems sympathetic - says he understands how I feel - I tell him what I want to do and he says that, as far as he can work out, the rules say I can appear in a dream once or twice without causing too much bother to the custodians of deathness upstairs. So that's what I decide to do. While I'm doing that, I reckon it would be worth getting a message to Penny's other half that she's got a toyboy (yet another one) and is messing around (again) while hubby's away. That could be very interesting - let's wait and see what that stirs up.
So the dream stuff - what am I going to tell him? Plan A, now that I've found out a bit more about how this place works, I reckon if I make out that I'm heading for Tartarus, and pretty soon, because I've been such a bad girl, it might just shake him up enough to set off and save me from all that pain and torture. It'd better.
The other option, Plan B, is to suggest that I'm having fun with dead people - got a boyfriend down here - on the basis that it might make him jealous enough to come and get me to stop anything happening. Personally, I think Plan A is more likely to work - guilt, considering what he's up to right now, will probably be much better motivation for him. It would do for me. On the other hand, if he thinks I'm having a good time, he might just cave in to Penny and leave me to get on with something that isn't actually happening because he'll think I'm OK really, that I'm just doing the same as him, only with dead people, and that he's OK to do what he likes because of it. So that's decided then. Guilt. Big, heavy guilt.

So now I have to make another decision - do I do it all in one go, get really heavy with him - or do I spread it out over a couple of nights, build it up, take my time and see what happens.
There's also the question of how to get in touch with Penny's bloke to let him know what she's really up to while he's away, and that's going to take a bit of working out too. For a start, you've got to find out where he is - which isn't easy, believe me. She obviously doesn't know where he is, and you get the impression that half the time, he doesn't know where he is himself - except not where he's supposed to be.
While I'm in the middle of all this planning, I get a message from Tony the special counsellor saying that he expects to see me first thing tomorrow. So that's another decision made for me. It's got to be tonight. I vote for serious overkill on one night. Let's go.Let's shake him and shock him. Let's shake both of them and shock both of them. What have I got to lose, after all ?

Bereavement Counselling - Crap or What

So I have to go back down there, down with all the dead people - which I don't think is me - not at all - and what's the first thing I get ? A message asking me ( telling me, really) to report to the Support and Readjustment Team. It would seem that my behaviour at the funeral has ruffled a few feathers up top and they want to find out what it's all about. They want to help me adjust to my "new situation". This doesn't look promising to me, not at all.
So I get there and they sit me down, ask me if I'd like a drink - like at the f**king hairdressers, and then they proceed to ask me if I'm having difficulty coming to terms with death. Do I want to talk about it ? Yeah of course I do - ( I do not!)
Obviously, my behaviour at my funeral was not "normal" for dead people so I must need some help to sort my afterlife out, or I won't get the full enjoyment of the Elysian Fields - they talk like it's some sort of holiday destination - the Disneyworld of death, Alton Towers for the recently deceased - as opposed to a piece of lawn where dead people hang out because there's f*ck all else to do. Nice. Even if I was really dead, I'd still kill myself before I'd go there - it seems to me like what I've heard a Saga holiday is like - no loud music, no staying up late, no fun. You might frighten the ghosts. I know you can never be older than when you die, but I was young, ( still am, I think) so I'm sure as hell not ready to settle for acceptance and stagnation.

So what do they offer me ? Bereavement Counselling, I thought that was to help people who are still alive "come to terms with their loss of a loved one" well, that's what the advert said. Apparently, down here it's also for recently dead people to help them come to terms with not being alive! People like me, in other words. I am not looking forward to this one little bit.

So first off, they apologise for keeping me waiting - apparently, they like to start within 24 hours (or less) of a "bereavement experiential incident" - which is their way of saying you've died - because they try to help dead people adjust to the transition into the afterlife. Crap. They say that I'm currently in Asphodel - wherever that is - where you hang around until someone decides where you go. Sounds a bit like a crap hotel on Corfu to me - or some sort of laxative - crap in every sense !

They tell me there was a delay in starting to respond for me because there was a "rescue promise" on their files that meant I might have been out of here before they could start on me. But seeing as how it hasn't happened -which apparently is quite common - they think it's time for me to get some help with my adjustment. I'd like to adjust them with a spanner or something heavy around the head, but they can't see that.

Anyway, it would appear that I've got to learn to accept death into my life. Got to get used to the idea of being a dead person and not fight change. Change, they say, is good - it means progress, moving on, coming to terms with things. Crap. I don't think I'm dead, so why accept it ? I tell them this, but it doesn't seem to sink in much. They reckon I'm just angry - and that once I accept death as a friend, which will happen, they assure me, then I will move on and be a true dead person.
So once all that bullshit's out of the way, they tell me they want to find me a counsellor who they think can help me come to terms with my anger and move on - to be a helpful resident of the Fields, as they call them. What if I don't want to go there, I ask ? The question fazes them a bit - as in why wouldn't you want to?
Life ( and death) are far too short to explain that to them now - and I don't think they'd get it - so I decide to just go with whatever flow there is. They think that I'm beginning to accept it (death) and start smiling at each other. Nice teeth. Like the Osmonds a bit, but without the jumpsuits.
So counselling - exactly what is the point, I ask you, in my circumstances ? Nothing they can do to help me, except with "coming to terms " with it all. Which I don't want to. In my personal view, it's a waste of time - and an expensive one at that. I'm not intending to stay dead long enough to need it.
In my experience, you usually end up talking to counsellors until you are blue in the face and still nothing happens - actually down here, that's quite common, turning blue in the face, that is. I think they call it cyanosis or something.
So you have to ask yourself - what motivation can you have when you're dead ? A better life for dead people ? Things for dead people to do during the day ? End discrimination against dead people? - it seems that for some reason it's really hard to hold down a job after you've died - you tend to get replaced. That's a surprise ! Would you believe that there's a campaign going to keep some jobs open for dead people for a while ? Dead people are getting angry about it, they tell me. Wow ! There's a campaign with a point, isn't it!

Anyway, they sit me down with this wimpy bloke who looks like he doesn't need to shave on account of not growing a proper beard yet - who asks me to "tell him all about it" so I try but he keeps stopping me and asking " and how did that make you feel ?" - f*cking hell, if I had a navel ( the post mortem kind of lost it, I think) I'd be spending all my time looking at it if he had his way. And telling you what colour the fluff was. So I say, it just made me feel kind of pissed off. And he says, weren't you concerned about how your anger might affect those still alive, who might not understand, that they might be traumatised by it? And I say no, f*ck them, they're still alive, after all, they can at least get used to it - me, I've got no option right now. He doesn't look like a happy bunny at this point. Not what he expected,I don't think.
After about an hour of this chat he tells me that he doesn't think I'm suitable for this type of counselling. That he's finding it difficult to develop the right sort of "therapeutic relationship" to help me let go of my anger and move on.
Hooray, I think - now I can get out of here. But no, he tells me they've got someone who specialises in this sort of thing, and they'll make me an appointment for later on. Tells me the guy's name is Tony, and he knows how it feels, apparently.
Me? sceptical - more than a bit. It's all bollocks anyway, this Tony guy's probably just another way of getting me to calm down and not rock the ferryboat across the Styx. Yes, so three people fell into the river last time I was on board, but I was wound up by that Penny, so I think it wasn't my fault. Honest.
Got an appointment with Tony tomorrow, unless his lordship turns up before then to rescue me. I'm not holding my breath for that.
Going to go and have a check up on what's happening up there, and I'll tell you all about it when I get back.

It's Your Funeral

So three days in, and it's time for my funeral. I can't help thinking I should have been out of here by now, but I'm still here. What is he waiting for ?
The reason I know it's my funeral today is because the man down here has made a point of telling me. He seems to have some sort of twisted desire to make me feel as bad as possible. Maybe it's because he knows I'm just pretending - kind of playing dead - that I wouldn't really be here in normal circumstances - that I kind of manouevred myself into being here a bit early, just to make a point. I think that's pissed him off a bit, he likes to be taken seriously - so he's making a point of telling me all the things I don't want to hear.
So it's my funeral. So I think I ought to be there to watch it. He comes up there with me, he says it could be a bit of a laugh. He's got a very sad sense of humour, I think.

There I am, all stretched out on a bed of flowers. They've fixed most of the damage from cutting me up, but I don't look quite right. The make-up just isn't me, and as for the hair-do - I wouldn't be seen dead looking like that - which is a bit of a shame, because I am. God knows who did that lot - it really, really doesn't suit me. Looks like someone has taken a degree in face painting and failed - I look like a parody of a woman - like something a bloke would dream up for Lolita or something.
I mean, bright blue eye shadow on top of really pale foundation and pinky-red lipstick. Haven't looked like that since I was - oh, 12 or so and borrowed my mum's stuff to make me look grown up. Crap, really crap - and what have they done to my hair - they've let the trainee do it - I haven't got curls and the just showered look really doesn't look right on me. But this is what they've done. Lucky they haven't put streaks in, I guess, or I could end up looking like a real dog's dinner, instead of just embarrassing as a fashion icon. And then there's my nails. I never, ever did them that colour. Not ever. Why did he let someone do that to me ? Is that how he sees me? A bimbo or tart with no taste ? And this is how they'll remember me - looking awful. I really, really want to slap someone for making me look like that.
I suppose at least they've got my clothes right. They look something like. He must have told them what I wanted to look like on my wedding day - cream dress to show off my tan, gold round my neck and in my hair and a really nice pair of Jimmy Choos that would, if I was standing up, make me look a lot taller. Very expensive and classy they look too, just a shame I have to be dead to wear them. How did he know I was going to wear them for the wedding ? I only bought them a week or so back, haven't put them on properly yet.
So that bit's right, at least, but I don't want to be the bride of death - I want to still be alive and stand up and make them adore me - like a real goddess ( even though I'm not really) - this is killing me ( yes, I know)
Anyway, there he is, big black rings round his eyes, looking like he's been crying for ever. Heartbroken. That's OK. That's what I'd want.
But, and this really gets me, she's there too - Penny the slapper - dressed to kill and draped all over him. If I actually liked her, I'd say she looked well - quite cute really, in an abandoned sort of way, but I don't. She shouldn't be there. Not at all. It's my day, not hers, the cow.

The service starts. They play my favourite music - not anything he did, thank god - don't think he'd be up to it - and the way he looks right now, he'd probably summon all the most miserable animals in the world and they'd all sit around and moan for days, or it would be all the creatures that go for dead things. Like worms, maggots and flies - that would not be nice. At least it shows he listened - he's got it spot on. Brings a bit of a lump to my throat when it's playing though, all my favourite tunes - and I can't listen to them properly.
So eventually, things get on to the speaking bits - and who's up first ? He is. He doesn't say much, just thanks everybody for being there to support him in his hour of need, and asks them all to remember how happy I made him. It's quite touching, in a way, if I wasn't me, I'd feel sorry for him - he obviously doesn't know what to do about it. Then he says that a very special friend has asked to say something - about how much I meant to her, how much of a role model I was - and, you guessed it - it's the slapper queen herself. She's dropped Sappho for something she says is really "personal" - it's some pseudy crap poetry she made up for the occasion - really, really makes you cringe it's that coy and clingy - and then she wants to tell everyone how important it is for them ( all his friends) to support him and care for him now I've gone - so he can move on, and forget about the wounds in his heart while still remembering the happy times. At this point, I start being sick. I'm finding it really hard not to throw up - I actually want to kill her too, but nausea takes over. Excuse me, but he's promised to rescue me, not remember me and he's supposed to risk his life to come and get me, not forget the hurt of my dying "untimely". I don't want him to get over me, to move on, I want him to come and get me out of here, like he said he would, to move mountains like he promised and go to the gates of hell to bring me back. I'm there, after all, so he should at least be packing his bags for the journey.
So at this point, I really, really lose it - all twisted up and ready to explode inside - I decide I've got to have some sort of impact. Let him know I'm still around and expect things of him. I know I can't actually touch anything for real, but I focus my mind - I've got so much anger building up - I just want to lash out at anything and anyone - especially her - and then kerboom! the vase with my funeral flowers in explodes - bits of glass, water and freesias and lilies all over the place. That's it. So now what - I make all the flowers on the bed I'm lying on start dying off, and really quickly too, so everyone notices - and last, but not least, the place fills up with wasps. Seemed the only things to conjure up today, he knows how much I hate them. They sting a couple of guests, but they miss out on the queen. Damn it. Anyway she runs out screaming and guess what, he follows her. All is definitely not well there. So now what ?

Mr H is wetting himself. Says he hasn't seen anything so funny since - oh - when a certain lady got bitten by a snake, and died. Oh ha ha.
That stops me. Lose all the focus on anger and it spins down into a whimper - breaks the pattern I'd built up to. Still feeling sick though.
So a few minutes later, he comes back, they finish the service and they take my body away and bury it in a crypt. I'd really like to make the building fall down, but all the anger's gone - the energy's gone, I just have to accept it for now. That's not a nice feeling, watching yourself shut in with dead people - for a start it's dark and very smelly, and there's no-one talk to.
It's obvious that what has happened has shaken him up a bit - he's muttering something to a friend about making promises and that maybe this is an omen, he ought to do something, but he still hasn't set off for down here, has he? Get packing I say, if he could hear me that is.
Anyway it's time for me to go back down - the man is insisting. No choice there then. Would like to say it was fun, but it wasn't. Not at all. So now what ?

So what happened then ?

Sorry if I'm a bit incoherent just now. I've had rather a nasty shock - it wasn't the snake. It looks like someone really wanted me out of the way, for some reason, so they poisoned me when no-one was looking. Maybe they spiked my drink or something. I don't know what with just yet. Apparently they're waiting for "toxicology" or something to get back to them. Last thing I heard that could take a couple of days. Great.
So now here I am, still feeling more than a bit lost, and all I've got to think about is who could hate me that much to want me dead - what's worse, so far, I've only got one name coming up - like a bad penny - oh, that's a bit of a give away, isn't it. Well, who else could it be? Who else would want to ? Nobody else I can think of would be that bothered - I know they might not cry too much about me not being there, but to actually do something - no, would be far too much of an effort - and not a nice thing to do either. We may make bitchy comments about each other, but there's no way any of them would take it that far. Apart from the fact they wouldn't know how to, anyway. I know I wouldn't.
One of the problems with being dead is it cuts out any opportunity for the sort of detective work that would sort this out - well, at least any stuff that involves physically touching things. Like looking for clues, that sort of thing. Not that I'd normally be into that, not my idea of a good time messing with that stuff, but in this case, I think I'd make an exception. It's kind of important to me - as in personal. Very personal. So how do I find out what happened and maybe see who did it? I know one of his friends was recording it all, on some sort of video thing, and I reckon there might just be the odd bit on there that might show someone messing with the drinks. If I'm lucky, that is. That's my best bet - provided they actually got them on camera, which might be a bit optimistic, given all the other stuff that was going on.
I can't actually go up there and watch the video, though. All I can do is hang around, feeling like someone's bit on the side - just waiting for them to say or do something. Plus you only get an hour or so away from the underworld at a time. The chances of that coinciding with someone playing that video are a bit slim.
Why ? I don't think it's a video that gets played a lot. For some reason, you kind of get the impression he isn't that keen on watching the love of his life being bitten by a snake and dropping down dead. Not exactly what he wanted to watch, I reckon. Not at all like the wedding video he must have been planning for. I may have been wearing white, well cream actually, but that's where it stops. No comparison.
And what's more, no-one up there can hear a word you say, so you're wasting your time trying to drop hints. "Go on, try playing that video where your fiancee dies, watch it over and over again so you can see what else might be going on in the background. Try looking over there by the drinks tray" Even if he could hear me, chances are he wouldn't do it. I wouldn't if I were him.
His friends are the same, no point dropping hints to them either. Believe me, I tried. Absolutely pointless. Deaf, the lot of them, and dumb too, but that's just men for you. Typical. No idea.

It's getting to me quite a bit, this not knowing who did it. There's acouple of reasons for that - part of me's a bit worried that even if I do get back( which I hope is what happens at the end of this), there's no guarantee they won't try it again. Whoever they are. Great. So it could happen again. If I can't work out who and why, I won't know what to look out for. What's more, I don't think anyone can get rescued from the underworld more than once after they've died - so even if I get back this time, I'll have to be on my toes pretty much all of the time to make sure it doesn't happen again - and then I'd really end up dead - and permanently, too. So it's really important that I find out who did it and sort them out. Which isn't easy to do from down here.

The next thing I start thinking about is what's he up to, how's he feeling - is he missing me ? Well, for a start, he does seem dead upset - when I'm up there he spends a lot of time beating himself up about what happened, and saying how it's all his fault, how he never should have done it, obviously feeling very sorry for me - and for himself - so OK, I say, hold on to that feeling, that's pretty much the effect I wanted to have - but it's not quite right, now, somehow, it was all supposed to be a game and now it's dead serious. Well, it is to me anyway.
What I really, really want to know is when he's going to come down here to try and bring me back like he promised. The worrying thing is it might be if, which I don't want to think too hard about.
So I'm saying "come and fetch me, like now, please, I'm waiting....hello ? Are you too busy or something ?
If there's an answer, I don't hear it.

All right, I do know that if he doesn't show up, I get to go back anyway - and if that's how it turns out I think it'll be interesting listening to him explain why he didn't - while I'm busy detaching his bits with an axe and scissors and stitching them to his forehead. Or somewhere equally obvious to the general public. Well, he'd deserve it, wouldn't he, having promised and all.
But what if he doesn't care enough to try - where does that leave me ? OK, so I'm back up there, but I'm not sure what the point of it all is. It would prove he didn't care enough, and I'd be left with nothing. It was supposed to test him, not me. This is really difficult for me. Then I think about what happens if he does show up and manages to mess it up on the way back up there so I end up here permanently ? That's something else I don't want to think about. Don't think I could stand it.

So how long exactly am I supposed to wait for him to show up? - days ? weeks ? months? years ? I've realised that my deal with the man down here didn't say how long I had to wait before I could get away, and now he won't say. I did ask him.
Could be a while, he says, just hang around a bit, I'll let you know when it's time. Persephone waited quite a long time, he says, and even then she still has to come back and stay for a bit. Fancy a pomegranate? And he laughs. I don't think that's funny.
In fact the whole set-up isn't funny - no fun at all. Dead people are more than a bit creepy, they're always touching you up ( well, me anyway) - and given you haven't actually got a body and nor have they, it's only the thought that counts, but believe me, they think it and you can feel it. What's more you can't threaten them - what are you going to say - stop it or I'll kill you ? - well, you can say it, but they just laugh at you and carry on anyway. I've tried. They do.

So now I'm going up there every chance I get, just to try to find out what's going on, what they're up to. Last time I went up they were sorting out my funeral - deciding who's going to say what - seriously upsetting from my perspective. And what's more, there's that Penny - she's in tears quite a bit and claiming she's dead upset too and wants to help him cope - so she's offering to read a poem or something - something by Sappho, she says - excuse me, but she'll do that over my dead body - and I'm begging him to say no, I want to do it myself, anyway you didn't really like her that much, and then I'm thinking how insensitive could she get - doesn't she realise he's grieving and you're all over him, then I'm thinking how insensitive is he, because the bastard let her - and I've just realised that's exactly what she will do - read it over my dead body - and there's nothing I can do about it. Not a nice feeling.

And now I've go to go back down again and face the dead people. I just wish he'd get a move on and come and rescue me - what's he waiting for ? It's been two days, and I don't think I can stand much more of this. Hurry up and fetch me! Now! Please. OK, I did say please. Pretty Please? Please do it. Soon. Help me. Please.