Title - Musings of a Dead Woman
Author - who else writes weirdo stuff?? noone.. must be Jules then..
Summery - I think the title tells all, tis the musings of a dead woman!
Disclaimer - I don't think they really want her when she's dead... do you??
Dedication - you know who you are.... )))

Musings Of A Dead Woman

Dead.... its a weird sensation. Its like one of those little tin-pot shops that have the 'no refund or exchange' signs out the front, so if you don't like it, you can't go back, or go forward, or do anything much in particular about it. Its also interesting, in a strange kind of way. Cos you're there, but you're not, but you are cos you can see everyone and know what they're up too, but they have no idea you're around, kinda like the one-way mirror in the interview room, now I know what the crims feel like. Caged, helpless, and unable to help anyone. I can see the pain that people are in, feel their anguish from day to day, see the hurt on my friends' faces, but I'm powerless to do anything about it. Sometimes, if I concentrate really hard, I can make someone sense me, or trigger a memory of me, but usually it makes them hurt more, defeating the purpose entirely. I tried it on Frank once, they still hadn't been able to contact him about my death, so he didn't know, he no idea at all, but I think he does now. It's like he's in the middle of the ocean, blissfully unaware if the events going on back home, and I go up to him, well more like hover in front on him. I concentrate really really hard, trying to trigger a memory, get him to have a flash of ESP or something, then he knows, this look of total pain crosses his face, his lips start to quiver, and he murmers my name. I never thought I'd hear it on his lips again, well apart from those dreams that I just go happen to catch every once in a while, but let's not go there. I think Frank and I did have that funny kind of extra-dimensional connection, call it ESP or whatever. But sometimes I did know what he was thinking, and I think he did the same. Either that or we were just too predictable for our own good. But I got him to understand something horrible had happened to me, he knows I'm dead, and that special little place in his soul just kind of curled up and died right along with me. Its so sad to see him now, not really enthused about life, just pottering from island to island, country to country, not really knowing what to do with himself. But the dreams are something else entirely. Most of the time its just us in our hey-day, fearless Cops protecting the innocent, solving some impossible case, putting some bastard away for life, and then we have the OTHER dreams. Oh boy, are they too hot to handle! Lets just say he has a rather vivid imagination of my naked body. Anyway from time to time I visit my other friends and see how they are doing. Jack's still just the shell of the man he used to be, aching inside for something to fill the terrible void that I created. I feel awful about the way I treated him, he was good in bed and all, but it was just the commitment thing. Oh boy was I ever bad at commitment. He loved me so much and I just shoved it all back in his face when it didn't suit me. Now its just about destroyed him. I'm glad in a way he got to read my diary, although sometimes I wish I'd burnt it long ago. He knows that I did love him, even though I treated him like shit. Although he's starting to get the ookypookies for that new D.... Alex something-or-rather. Pity Mick had his eye on her first. Gez he should know that workplace romance gets you nowhere!
Helen too is finally starting to move on with her life. Its hard to think that they're forgetting me, well not really forgetting, but I'm not the foremost thought in their minds. I got a memory now and again, a silent prayer here or there, but nothing more. Not that I really want to be on their minds all the time, god knows they'd never get any work done, which would in turn drive Jeff absolutely crazy. Speaking of Jeff, personally I think he took my death the hardest. Not in the way that Jack, Frank and Helen took it, but Jeff feels responsible. He felt it was his call on that night, hell it probably was, but I wouldn't have listened to it. He feels like he failed me as a commanding officer, and as a friend. Man I'd hate to have his job, knowing that every time you sent someone out on a job, or gave them a case, they might end up in a nice royal blue body bag. Gez those bags are ugly, hot too! And they think dead people have no feelings.... someone ought to tell them otherwise! But yeah Jeff is really hurting inside. He's almost afraid to send everyone out on jobs, scared that they'll end up like me. I wish there was someway I could help there, but again, there's that one-way mirror thing. Being dead really sucks sometimes, I wouldn't suggest you try it, it's non-refundable. Living is infinitely more fun.