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1. Roll Call

When my boyfriend flatlined I instantly died with him. After he took his last breath something snapped in me. I suddenly forgot that my name was Melissa Jackson.

I ceased to live. Life as I knew it died with the ultimate end to us. I forever hold the peppermint smell in my memory banks.

I got on top of him and it took a long moment for my emotions to take over as I tenderly rubbed his cheekbones. A series of tears cleansed my lower face, yet my will to live has been given a dirty pink slip.

I wanna be where you are. I refuse to be left behind. Baby...you're playing possum, you gotta be .You're always joking, aren't you?

I brushed imaginary lint off the upper right hand portion of his hospital gown, leaning forward as I kissed his lips.

"Had I ever told you that your beautiful lips reminds me of the purest honey and sugar? And not that processed honey and sugar. Actual honey from a bee hive. Sugar from sugar canes in the South. Blended together with the nature of mine brought us together. For five years. We went everywhere together. And now you want to travel without me? Tell me, where are you now, baby?

I was a complete invalid. Emotional wreck. I was sobbing something terrible. I could barely understand a word I was saying. I sounded like DMX stuck on repeat. And I didn't care.

Today was our wedding day. And he died before he could say I Do. I had the chance to do so. The best decision I ever made in my life wasn't reciprocated because the instant he slid the ring on my finger a flash momentarily blinded us. As the room came into focus it slowly dawned on me that he was experiencing cardiac arrest. And by the time I realized it, it was too late.

I wanna be where you are. I can be there in a jiffy. Are you bouncing around Saturn while in admiration with Jupiter's moons?

Two nurses touched my shoulder and I was incoherent as I broke apart; crying over my dead boyfriend. My husband.

Whom I'd never see again.

I cried like my Mama died.

💋💋💋💋💋

Eight Years Later

💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

Clad in a black suit with silk black tie and golden gloves, The Facilitator looked himself over in a small compact mirror he'd taken from his mother's purse early this morning. The mustache was gorgeously trimmed.

Sliding the mirror into his inner coat pocket, he smiled and blew his breath into his hands, sniffing.

Smelled well!

His Movado watch sparkled. He was dripping in diamonds bought with his brother's drug money.

"Hello, how are you?" The Facilitator of the Event asked the beautiful young woman.

Damn, he's fine! she thought crazily. Nice ass, killer chest, black snake skinned shoes and his eyes looked like they changed colors. "I'm fine, thank you." Her eyes sparkled. She ran her shaking hands over her green velvet dress.

Her floral hat was divine and a bit sinister, since an ex-con made it.

He winked lewdly. "Your name?" he asked, barely above a whisper, trying to be sophisticated.

She licked her lips. "Deep Pussy."

I should have shaved the beaver. Oh, well. Too late now. I really don't give a shit!

Opening the laptop, he cued up the profile roster. He looked at her gorgeous face and the screen. She matched.

"You may enter."

It's about time! "Thank you."

He said, "Remember, follow the rules."

Well damn, is this The Matrix? "Yes sir," she said, rubbing his dick before she disappeared down the hallway, towards paradise on earth.

I need dick in my life.

Maybe it'll knock this tuberculosis infection right out of my system....

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