Bandit trotted over to the neighbor’s five-year-old daughter, Emma. It carried my ash container in its mouth in a proud manner.
With her child innocent, Emma snatched my urn from Bandit. She then popped open the lid and began pouring my ashes onto the ground for the dog.
Bandit wagged its tail in glee. It quickly licked my remains with gusto, leaving almost nothing on the ground.
When I glanced at the plastic container, it was already empty, except for a few traces of what was once my body.
As the sky darkened and storm clouds gathered, Emma pulled Bandit along heading toward their home. On her way out, she accidentally kicked over the container and spilled what little was left of my ashes.
Whoosh.
A torrential downpour began, washing away the last remnants of my physical form from this world.
It seemed even the heavens had no mercy for me.
This was the third day after my death. I had witnessed my body being completely erased from existence. My tally of tears from loved ones remained at zero and there were still twenty-seven days left until the game was over.
The fourth day after my death was Sunday and it was also a Mother's Day celebration.
Early in the morning, both of my sister and brother left the house. My mother was full of excitement. It was very unusual for her to be in a cheerful mood like this.
Recently, my sister asked her to choose from a series of photos of gold bracelets and pick which one she liked the best. My brother had also inquired about what women her age usually preferred. Clearly, they were planning something special for her.
With a light heart, she hummed to herself as she did the housework. She was eagerly anticipating the gifts that my older sister and brother were surely preparing. As noon approached, she finished cooking a lavish meal, convinced that today would bring her a wonderful surprise.
However, just before lunchtime, my sister informed her that she had something urgent to attend to and could not come back home for lunch. Then, not long after that, my brother called her with the same excuse.
“These two... they must be planning something big, that it's taking so much time!” my mother murmured to herself, still smiling with anticipation.