Well this is strange. Definitely a difference. It was really good. I got a bit lost half way through, but I liked how you took it all from a different point of view. This is looking really great
They promised me that no one would understand. Wanting to believe, I went softly and slipped off like a boat off to sea. And, for the most part, they were right. I couldn't help but pride myself in that, not being understood. It was refreshing. I breathed easy as they lowered me into my coffin, as they spoke my eulogy and told everyone how good of a person I was, as eyes blue as mine cried, as they piled the dirt onto my grave. I had what I wanted, though no one had known that I'd wanted it.
And people came to visit me. First it was family, my weeping mother and grandmother and siblings and even my father. It was the caretaker of the graveyard, come to trim back the grass around my gravestone. It was Marty, who I hadn't spoken to for years, who I'd been on bad terms with, who wondered aloud if he had something to do with it. And then, it was Laura. Laura didn't talk to me about me. She talked about her, how her mom was doing now, her little sister, what she was thinking of writing next. She talked about the boy she was seeing, "if you aren't upset with me, he's really sweet I promise and he treats me right," and he had money and a nice car like a business man. She called him Cole, and said he had sandy hair like I did. When she left, Laura left me a picture of us, and said that she hoped it wouldn't be ruined too quickly in the rain.
She came back four days later, and asked me how I was, if it was cold down there, if I'd meant it. I said, "Fine. Yes. Of course." She couldn't hear me, and I figured that was best. We hadn't talked in a couple of days before it, anyways. This was guilt, keeping her here kneeling at my graveside, staining her stockings with mud and leaves. Nothing else. She was even wearing a sweater I gave her, one she'd said smelled like me. I wonder if it still did, if that's why she pulled it tighter across her shoulders as she talked.
"I miss ya, ya know. I know that we were... kind of spreading apart, I guess, kinda losing each other in everything, but it was nice having you there, even when you weren't really THERE. It was nice having you sit next to me, even when you didn't talk. I guess that's what we're doing even now, just sitting together, you not wanting to talk, me chattering on and on about nothing and bugging the hell out of you." She laughed, and I wanted to cry. "I miss you being quiet. I mean, of course I miss you talking even more, you had the most beautiful voice and the best ways of saying things but even just your silence. No one is ever quiet in the same kind of way. Cole doesn't quite get it, even. He talks a lot, mostly about work. He... yeah. Yeah." She stopped then and pulled the sleeves over her hands and it stretched like it were my bigger body in there instead of hers. She sat for a while, quiet as the quiet she'd talked about, and then she picked up the picture of us and folded it into her pocket and left and I swear, she was crying for me.
It was three weeks before she came again-- I counted one of my hands three times and kept the other on my throat because it felt like I was choking. I kept having to remind myself that I was already dead. She came in the morning and brought me flowers with the saddest eyes I'd ever seen. She sat with her back against my gravestone and talked until the afternoon and ate an apple in between sentences and when she was done, held the core in between her thumb and index finger, not wanting to put it on the ground next to me. It browned and shrivelled and I was too distracted by the skeleton in her hand and how much it looked like me. She talked until night and took the apple core with her and I watched it peel away into something tiny as she left.
She came the next day and told me about Cole again, how he wasn't the person she thought he was and she'd had to ask him to leave her house last night and he shut the door so hard on his way out that it broke a hinge. She told me that her mother wasn't doing too well, that, "The doctors said she might have til tomorrow, but it might be ten years, and that hoping for tomorrow would be the kindest thing I could ever do for her" and that she thought she might start praying, even though she didn't think there was anything worth praying to. After a few moments, she asked if I could put in a word for her. I wished that I could, but my bones were shut too tight into my box and no one could ever hear my voice from way down there. She cried a little, a little for me and a little for her, and her sweater was wet when she left.
She came back a week later and pretended I hadn't heard anything but by now I knew she knew. She asked me how I was, if it was cold down here, if I'd meant it. I said, "Not so great. Freezing. Yes. I hadn't known, though. I wish I had-- I wouldn't have meant it in a million years." The flowers she brought were shrivelled and dried as I was, and she mumbled an apology and promised to bring more even though I knew this would be her last time here. She said that she was wrong about Cole. He fixed her door and said his sorries and they were back together in his nice car with his work talk, and she said, "I'll be happy, Ben. Happy as I can be," with a makeuped eye and a ginger way of walking. She picked up her things like they were loose bones and the flowers crackled and broke onto my grave. Tracing the letters of my name, she said, "I'm so, so sorry that you did this, Ben. I can't say I don't understand though. I think I understand more than anything else," and she kissed the tips of her fingers and closed her eyes and walked across the ground that my body lay under. And I wished more than anything else that I hadn't, that she didn't, that no one would ever understand.
Well this is strange. Definitely a difference. It was really good. I got a bit lost half way through, but I liked how you took it all from a different point of view. This is looking really great
Daughter! I'm very sorry it took me this long, I only noticed your request today... 
Well, this was really good. I was hooked from the very first "my coffin" and then I was intrigued throughout the story. I really liked the narrator's voice.
For some reason, I thought the narrator was a girl until the part where Laura mentioned him by his name. It might be because I often assume the narrators are the same gender as their authors 
Anyway, to keep the "girlfriend talking to dead boyfriend" impression I got after realising the gender thing going from the end to beginning, you might want to drop some hints of the narrator's maleness earlier on? I don't know, maybe it really was just me thinking he was a girl, but I think since I did think that, the effect you aimed for was violated a bit. I mean that it would be fair for you as the author if your readers had your impression of the text all along.
They promised me that no one would understand.
She came back four days later, and asked me how I was, if it was cold down there, if I'd meant it. I said, "Fine. Yes. Of course." She couldn't hear me, and I figured that was best. We hadn't talked in a couple of days before it, anyways. This was guilt, keeping her here kneeling at my graveside, staining her stockings with mud and leaves. Nothing else. She was even wearing a sweater I gave her, one she'd said smelled like me. I wonder if it still did, if that's why she pulled it tighter across her shoulders as she talked.
I miss ya, ya know.
It was three weeks before she came again-- I counted one of my hands three times
I kept having to remind myself that I was already dead.
with a makeuped eye
She picked up her things like they were loose bones and the flowers crackled and broke onto my grave.
Hello,
For the most part, I really did enjoy your writing.
It was hard to understand at first, I had no clue what it was about but after a couple of sentences I caught on.
I would have to say it was fairly good grammar and I didn't see any spelling mistakes.
What I don't get though, is the bit about the apple. When it says that she took it with her but you could see it shrivel? I thought that was a bit confusing. If she took the apple with her, how could you possibly see it shrivel?
Maybe I mis-read it, but that is just one of my points.
Another thing is, I never would have guessed it was a boy.
The voice of the narrator sounds very girl like, and I know in first person it can be hard to come across as a boy. But maybe you could work on that, just make it sound a little more boy-like. More clues that your writing in the language of a boy.
But other than that, I enjoyed it. Keep up the good work 
-- Ever.
This is so amazing. There is absolutely nothing wrong with it in my eyes, the narration was great and just the overall meaning of the story was incredible. Even though this piece was overwhelmingly heart-wrenching it supplied me with a warm sort of feeling in my heart, mostly because the beauty and essence of the story and how she eventually moved on with life after losing someone she loved and most likely going through a really tough time in her life. It gave me hope and helped me see the light that is suprisingly very close as it waits at the end of the tunnel. Thank you, great work. Bravo!
Peace,
Snickerdooly
Hey,
I like this a lot. :] You have a very poetic, flowing way of writing prose and your imagery is just beautiful.
First off, I think you need to break this up a little. Maybe it's just because I just woke up and my eyes still have sleep in them, but this was really annoying to read, in blocks of paragraphs.
Persy wrote: They promised me that no one would understand.
Persy wrote: She came in the morning and brought me flowers with the saddest eyes I'd ever seen.
Persy wrote: with a makeuped eye and a ginger way of walking
Persy wrote: It browned and shrivelled
Persy wrote: I watched it peel away into something tiny as she left.
Persy wrote: And I wished more than anything else that I hadn't, that she didn't, that no one would ever understand.
Simply put; I'm speechless. Your imagery is just fantastic! I loved your descriptive words especially. Most people have either not enough description, causing the story to feel flat, or they have too much, causing the story to be overwhelming and make no sense whatsoever. But you balanced it PERFECTLY! I am in awe of your writing. I didn't find any grammatical errors or anything I didn't like. Amazing. Keep writing! BRAVO
This was really great! You did a good job being indirect, everyone knows he killed himself, but you never just say out right. I wish we knew the main character's name. I think that would help us feel more attached to him. You were very descriptive, and I had a scene held in my mind throughout the whole of the story. You also did a good job expressing Laura's emotion through her body language. Great job!
So what's there to say? Hmm...probably not too much. This is a very good, thoughtful piece, laden with emotion. Each sentence reads like a sleepy memoir or a wistful epitaph. Which is great. It feels like sighing in the cemetery.
Not sure if I would say it has particular depth, though, because of both the narrator's nonplussed disposition and the vague generalities that leave the "it" and the "that" up to reader interpretation. Y'know, the "no one would understand" and "I understand" and "I meant it" and "I get it" and so on. It gets a little constipated at times, like you want the reader to know what it is and you're whispering it but we can't quite hear you and so we kind of make up our own meaning based on the mouth-shape. And I want to think I have some vague notion about what the "it" and the "that" is, but it's such a sliver of a story that it could go any way.
Also, not much feels important here. Not sure if that was your intention, but between Laura's passive life and the everyday of being dead, there's not much to be "attached to"--which, given the idea of life/death and being attached to earthly possessions and ideas, may be what you wanted. Anyway, there's not much to care about. It's there, and it's pretty, but what is the bigger meaning? Is there a greater truth you speak of?
Also:
I watched it peel away into something tiny as she left.
Hey there Pierce,
Already told you this is nice and I lieks it, so this is Jag Review: Nitpick Please Don't Hate Me Edition, mk?
First, I think the pacing of the first paragraph is a bit off. The first two sentences don't mesh together quite as well as they ought to, and so it's a bit weird coming into the story.
"I breathed easy as they lowered me into my coffin" is a bit contradictory, what with breathing vs. being dead. On first read I initially thought the narrator was still alive, only mistaken for dead. Maybe find another phrase to signal relief?
The overall format you're using also comes across as very compact. It all seems a bit crammed together, and while the transition between parts isn't bad I think it could still be made smoother - space it out a bit so we get a better sense of that passing time, of the monotony I'd assume comes with being dead and having nothing to do all day, make the Cole revelation a bit less sudden maybe?
Butyeah. S'good. upwnpierce
Hi! Brave work!
My first impression was that it started off like many other things I've read. Such as, I feel like I've seen the section around "For the most part, they were." too many times. After the first couple sentences though, it catches and becomes thought provoking, and just confusing enough to draw in. Maybe start out a little less conversational?
There aren't many perspectives that haven't been done before, but fresh-in-the-grave felt brand new to me. Very creative.
I kept looking for the characters that appeared in the beginning to come back for a longer introduction as well. You introduce them all the same, but only follow up on the girl. You could lead in better by having less of an introduction for the other characters, or a longer, unique introduction for her. I didn't expect the story to be about the girl at all. The way you talk about the deceased's guy friend and girl friend at the funeral is very similar...It was leading.
Good job. Very grim. Very emotional.
Hope this helps! Feel free to ask for clarification!
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