Prompt stolen from random Tumblr post: Imagine everyone enjoying the afterlife and everything, but something happens so that the dead start returning and so people begin to "cling to death" instead of "cling to life".
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Sun glare and white picket fences clouded my vision as I finished my last lap around the neighborhood. There's no better start to the morning than a jog around the 21st. The 14th is too crowded and ugly, the 1st is too far away, but the 21st, I can't explain it, it feels like the perfect home. I have the time to catch the ferry, maybe run to another Isle, but why do that when I'd miss Carrie Fisher walking her dog or Mr. Bowie humming happily on his porch. In fact, I passed both of them just minutes before as I made the final turn towards my house.

Rachel, my wife, waved happily from the window. "Hungry?"

"Only if you're cooking," I lovingly called, racing for the front door.

I jogged through the gate and up the porch, Conner smiling as I opened the door. "Hey buddy!" I laughed, grabbing my under the arms and throwing him into the air, making him giggle wildly.

"It's getting cold!" Rachel called from the kitchen.

I dropped my little man to the floor as he motioned for me to lift him up again. "I heard Mommy cooked."

Immediately, Conner turned and ran for the door, squealing with delight. I followed, pushing open the door to find three hot plates of fresh lasagna waiting at the table. While Conner rummaged through the drawer for utensils, Rachel was hauling the gallon of lemonade to the table.

"How was the run, honey?" She asked with a kiss.

"Wonderful as always," I said, gently pushing Conner to his seat.

Together, we pieced at our lunches. "Some new neighbors moved in. I was thinking of having a block party to introduce them."

"Sweetheart, another block party? We've had one almost every day this month."

"Well, Derek, they're new. You remember how scary it was when we first got here."

I remember it plain as day. The screech of the tires, the slow motion and silence, and the blinding light.

"You're right." I admitted. "A block party is perfect."

"Of course I am" she sarcastically answered, taking her clean plate to the sink. I knew there was much more behind that smile, but decided not to bring that up again. It's always a touchy subject. "Conner, don't forget you have a play date with Jake in a little bit."

"I know. We're going to be at the park."

"Okay, just stay out of Mr. Walker's lawn this time. The last thing he needs is another baseball shaped hole in his car; you know how much he loves his car!"

Without another word, Conner disappeared through the door and into the street.

"Don't look so worried," Rachel teased. "He does this almost every day."

"I'm not worried," I quickly answered, fixing the frown that had unconscious grown.

"Even dead, you're a terrible liar."

Busted. "What if the rumors are true?"

The clanging of dishes suddenly stopped. Without turning around, she said, "I know we're new here, and I still don't understand where this is, but nothing else can happen. Cypress Creek is behind us, the crash is behind us, life is behind us."

"Do you miss it?" I quietly asked, my eyes growing misty at the memory of my friends and family, my parents who I'll no doubt see soon enough.

I stared at the empty table, Rachel hands slowly caressing my shoulders. "Sometimes," she admitted. "On the bright side, no more worrying about bad traffic or bills to pay. But every now and then, I could really go for a Krispy Kreme donuts like we used to on weekends."

"Baby," I said, the waterworks in motion. "I'm so sorry. It's all my fault. I should've known better. I mean, you and Conner had no idea what was coming, and texting and driving, my god..."

She grabbed a napkin from the table and gently wiped away my tears. Taking both of my hands, she said, "It's okay. We're in a better place."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Resorting to irony to cheer me up?"

"It's working isn't it?" She answered smugly.

"Mom! Dad!" A boy's voice called from outside. Conner sprinted through the door, his soccer ball under his arm.

"Conner?" I called, Rachel close behind as we ran to the porch. "What's wrong?"

Breathing heavily, he took a seat on the step. "I, I was playing soccer with Jake when, when he just disappeared!"

"Are you sure he wasn't playing a trick on you?" Rachel asked uncertainly.

"Did you see it?" I questioned, taking seat next to him.

He shook his head no. "He kicked the ball into the lake and by the time I got it with a stick, he was gone."

Rachel must've seen the panic on my face because she ushered us inside. I took Conner into the kitchen to get some water while Rachel called Jake's parents.

"Dad? Is Jake okay?"

"Don't worry bud, I'm sure it's just a prank. Did you hear or see anything to say where Jake could be?"

His eyebrows scrunched in frustration. "No! It was like every other day that we've played soccer."

As he began to cry, I hugged him close. "It's alright, bud. You don't have to cry."

He suddenly stopped. "Dad, did you feel that?"

"Feel what?"

"The shaking. Like an earthquake."

We sat in silence until it happened again. "Baby?" I called. "Stay here," I told Conner before running for the stairs. "Rachel?!" In our room, I found the telephone dangling from its chord and my wife gone. I desperately ran room to room. I can't lose her again. This can't possibly be happening.

Then, everything began to hum. Low and powerful at first, like a banging snare drum, soon became inescapable. I could barely hear Conner's panicked scream from the kitchen as I descended the stairs. I found him cowering under the kitchen table, probably doing as they taught him in school in case of an earthquake.

"It's okay," I told him, wiping away his tears. "We're new remember there's no reason to..." I said, only to see our neighbors - the Osazuks- running down the sidewalk, clutching their small children in their hands. Curious, I threw open the front door, Conner wrapped around my leg. At the end of the street where the 21st ended, a strange glowing bridge disappeared into the normal thick fog.

From the sky, a booming voice yelled, "100 have already been chosen and everyday after, 100 more shall again walk the Earth. The Doors of Death will remain open, for the dead shall live among the living and Elysium will be no more."

With one arm wrapped around my son and the other gripping the porch post, I trembled horrified at my realization, the crazy rumors were true. What Rachel and I first thought were a prank to scare the newbies, was a very real, very terrifying situation: the dead would not Rest In Peace as the dead would soon cease to be.