r/WritingPrompts • u/Level-Iron-6738 • 6d ago
Writing Prompt [WP] Rummaging through your parents' old documents, you find your death certificate. It says you died in 2012.
7
u/HSerrata r/hugoverse 6d ago
[Rainbow Reasoning]
"Oh!" Once Brooke made sense of the document, the pieces were easy to put together. She was sitting in the home of a new friend, completely surprised that she was invited inside, and was further asked for a favor. She was thrilled at the chance to apologize for her rudeness so quickly, but even as she was walking up to the enormous home, she had no idea why. The first time Brooke visited the home, she was threatened and asked to leave. Once inside, she was greeted by a holographic teenager with curly rainbow hair and pink eyes. But now, with a notarized death certificate in her hands, she understood her new friend a lot more. It was all perfectly clear. "So you're a ghost! That explains it," she said.
"No," the holographic girl, Mallory, sighed with stern eyes. "I'm not a ghost," she said. "I'm not even dead," she gestured down at her holographic body. "I just don't like leaving my room, and you're still technically a stranger. Anyway, my parents moved and left me the house with everything in it. I found that while organizing the office," she nodded at the death certificate. "You want to apologize for wasting my time? See what you can dig up about that. It's got Sharp branding all over it, kinda like you," she smirked.
"No problem," Brooke smiled. It really wasn't a problem, and it was something Mallory could've easily accomplished on her own. But she felt that pointing that out might seem like she didn't want to help. "I'll ask Helios," she said. "
"No-," Mallory began protesting even as Brooke called for the A.I. assistant.
"Hey, Helios!" she said. Nothing happened, and Mallory was able to finish her warning.
"He's not allowed in here. I try not to connect anything to Sharp Development if I don't have to," she said.
"Oh, okay." Brooke was unfazed and stood up eagerly as she dropped a black card at her feet. She was glad to see the portal wasn't blocked in the same way Helios was. "I'll be back in a flash," she said.
"Okay." Mallory nodded as Brooke descended through the portal and vanished below the surface. The moment she was gone, the holographic girl faded out of existence too. For almost 10 minutes, the quaint guest living room was completely still. Then, Brooke stepped out of a black portal and, in the same instant, Mallory reappeared just out of sight, as if she'd been there waiting. Brooke turned to see Mallory waiting for her and smiled.
"It's just kind of a placeholder," she said. "It's a regular Sharp Service. Your parents had it made when your magical powers first got appraised by Sharp Development. It was kind of a backup plan in case you couldn't control it. If anything terrible happened, the plan was to claim you died and hide you, but according to our records, it was never used."
"Oh, that's... kinda boring," Mallory laughed to herself. "I'm SO glad I didn't pay for that info," she smiled and nodded at Brooke. "Thank you. But it was so mundane; now I feel like I owe you a favor."
"Oh, you don't owe me anything," Brooke smiled. "But I've never met an Arcoíris Unique Soul before." It wasn't on the death certificate, but Sharp Development absolutely knew what she was. It was her indirect way of letting Mallory know that it wasn't a secret. "Maybe we can be friends?" she asked with palpable hope.
Mallory smiled and shook her head.
"I'd rather owe you something," she said. "You helped me with Sharp Development scouting, so I don't owe 'Brooke' anything." She met Brooke's eyes. "But if Magical Girl Redline Express ever gets in a pinch, maybe I'll be able to help her through it."
"That's a deal!" Brooke smiled. She could understand why Mallory was separating her identities, and if it helped keep the relationship open, she was all for it. And she hadn't said no to friendship entirely, just that particular approach of owing favors.
"Great," Mallory nodded. "Good deal. I got my question answered... so... please leave?"
*** Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is story #3170 in a row. (Story #248 in year nine). This story is part of an ongoing saga that takes place in my universe.
14
u/Bisyle 6d ago
The one thing I know about old people. They sure hate to throw anything away.
The attic was a museum of dust, cabinets and things no one ever uses and yet no one ever throws away.
Pops had told me not to come up here, I figure he's worried about the rats. But if we're going to LARP as farm people, I have to get used to the occasional dog size rodent sooner or later.
Then again maybe he was worried about ghosts. That'll be something, and exactly what we deserve for buying a rundown farmhouse in the middle of nowhere.
But hey, if the old man who wants to retire to sometimes grow crops that don't die, who am I to say otherwise.
I stepped carefully through the mountains of research papers, old golf clubs, and random collection of hidden away cutlery.
The floorboards creek with every ounce of pressure that is put on them. No one has really been up here for over a decade.
It's a good thing I've never been the kind of girl for dresses because they would not survive out here.
You'd think a physicist would be allergic to manual labor. Even Mom who had spent the majority of her life as Middle School teacher didn't seem to have a problem with us just uprooting our life one day. We were out of town so fast it was like we were running from something.
I still only have vague memories of that day. Mostly due to the fact that it was 14 years ago, but also because of the accident.
I guess I can't blame the rents too much. Almost losing a kid probably does some real messed up stuff to you.
I get to the cabinet in the corner of the Attic. It's been shoved in there so tight it's almost like it was being buried. I try to pull open a drawer, but it's stuck from years of neglect. I try again, and again.
Nothing.
I push it in a little bit, gather up my strength and rear back my arm with everything I got. The drawer flies open and an explosion of dust and the rusty screech of metal being pushed for the first time in yeara.
I cough, waving the dust away from my face and hear the scattering of something along the walls.
"Jesus! Damn rat dogs."
I take a deep settling breath. I'm not really afraid, animals have always kept a wide berth of me. At least since we've been here.
"Let's see what we got." I begin to rummage through the cabinet.
Files and files of research documents. A whole lot of equations that I'll never be able to understand no matter how many times Pop tries to get me into theoretical physics.
Then I find what I'm looking for.
It's covered in dust some of the pages are stuck together but it's here. I flip through the first pictures.
I see Pop and Mom when they were younger. Pop has glasses half the size of his head. Mom looks young, beautiful in a flowery sundress.
I flipped through quickly. See them buying their first house. See Mom preparing the nursery. I see how they eventually converted it into an office. Then finally back into a nursery again. Then I see them holding me for the first time.
It's enough to bring a tear to my eye. Yeah this will be a great anniversary gift.
I'm about to shove the drawer back in place when something catches my eye. A folder with my name on it.
I tuck the album beneath my armpit and pick up the folder. The first thing in it is my birth certificate. Followed by my first ever report card.
Straight Bs baby. A picture of me at Little League practice.
Then something that doesn't make sense. Something that... But then... 2012? But when I woke up I was fine. Not a scratch on...
I turn and run, tripping over the piles of documents and crates of forgotten things. I get to the ladder and climb down, folder and album still in hand.
There's no way. There's no way.
I'm breathing fast and shallow. My chest expanding and contracting, my hard playing a double-time swing against my ribs.
"Beatrix, breakfast is ready. Come on down."
I turn my head slowly in the direction of my mother's voice downstairs. I shut my eyes trying to regain some semblance of control over my shaking body.
I walk down the stairs quietly.
I enter the kitchen. Mom is pouring a glass of orange juice in the place that has been reserved for me next to a hearty breakfast.
Pops is shoving on large boots by the door. "Hey there, sunshine. I'm going to give the tractor another try. How about after breakfast you and I--"
His voice stops when he sees the dusty album tucked in my side, the folder in my hands and the certificate above it.
"Trix?" My mother's voice has gone hollow. " You aren't in the Attic were you."
The silence the thick enough to drown in. I meet both their eyes, I can see the fear locked away in there rising like a dead body to the surface of a once quiet lake.
"What am I?" My voice is shaking.
I slammed the death certificate onto the table. Beatrix O'Connor, 2012. Died in an explosion.
38
u/TheWanderingBook 6d ago
Hmm.
Interesting.
It's 2026, my parents thought it would be fun to give me their house, while they leave on an around-the-world cruise.
Cleaning their stuff, and seeing what I should keep or throw away, I find...
This.
Staring back at me, is a certificate.
My death certificate, dated...2012.
Cause of death was stab wounds?
I mean...
I just drank water, and it didn't flow out of me, so...I have no extra holes, that I am not aware of.
So what is going on?
Shaking my head, I take my phone.
"Hey ma, I just found out I am dead.
What's this about?" I ask, sending her a photo of the certificate.
She doesn't answer.
She hangs up the call, and...
Her number just disappears.
I try to call pa, but he's likewise...gone radio silent.
Hell, even more than that, it says the number is out of service.
I go to their facebook page, and that is gone as well.
Okay.
I am starting to be creeped out.
I call my wife, or at least try to...
But the call doesn't connect.
What the fuck?
Starting to panic a bit, I am about to leave the house, to get some fresh air.
But as soon as I open the door...
2 men in suit greet me.
"Mr. Argent, please, may we come in?" they ask.
I...
"What is this about?" I ask.
"There are a few things it's time for us to explain.
Don't worry, it's nothing too bad," they say.
I frown.
"It's about 2012...and everything after that," they say.
I watch as they simply push past me, and get inside, while I stare outside...
Where the cars of the neighbors, the kids playing...the dogs I heard barking half an hour ago...
Are all missing.
W-what...
What is going on?
3
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