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The Writings of Briar Rosethorn
I enjoy writing. Plain and simple. I plan to make it my career so this journal will hold anything I write, whether good or bad. A scrapbook of both rough and final work, if you will. I will try to keep is as organized as possible.
The Secrets of Sunnyside Morgue (Short Story)
AUTHOR'S NOTES
I entered this into a contest on a great website called www.writing.com. I'm on that site a lot. I enter a lot of contests. This contest was a daily one. They give us a prompt every day to use and we have 24 hours to write a story under 1000 words using that prompt and enter it. Unfortunately, I missed the deadline with this story because it was 300 words over the limit and I spent too much time trying to cut it down. The prompt was landing your dream job, but it doesn't turn out the way you expected.

The Secrets of Sunnyside Morgue
"Miss Werthson, come to visit again?" The secretary checked the schedule. "Miss White is free at the moment. You can step right into her office." she told Marla.

"Wonderful..." Marla sighed, rolling her eyes. She slumped into Miss White's office. As Marla walked, Miss White smiled.

"Marla! How nice to see you. I was just about to call you down to my office." she beamed. Miss White was always way too cheerful to seem human.

"You were? What did I do this time?" she asked. Marla wasn't exactly a model student, but lately she had been well-behaved because she really needed this co-op placement. It was required for her to get into the medical program she wanted after graduation.

"Oh absolutely nothing bad, Marla. I was just going to tell you some very good news. We've found you a co-op placement at last." Marla sat up, not believing her ears. These beurocratic morons had finally gotten their heads out of their butts long enough to do something productive? The apocolypse must be near.

"Really? Where?" she asked. Please be Nickelson Hospital, she pleaded. It was close to her house so her parents would let her use the car and they had just opened up a new maternity ward with top of the line equipment. Just the thing she needed.

"Well, it isn't exactly your typical placement for someone going into the medical field, but I'm sure you'll find it fascinating." Marla's hopes dropped.

"I'm getting stuck in the destist office, aren't I?" she grumbled. Miss White laughed.

"No no. They don't accept high school students. We're placing you at Sunnyside Morgue. Their coroner has offered to give you first-hand experience." she chirped as though this was the most exciting piece of news she'd ever had to tell anyone. Marla jumped up with a smile.

"Dead people? Wicked!" Marla punched the air in triumph. The guys on her hockey team would be so jealous!

"It was very difficult to get you this placement because our last placement there... well, didn't work out." Miss White hushed. "He erm... needed therapy for six months." There was a pause. "Oh but I'm sure you'll love it there, Marla." she added, back to her usual, cheery alien self.

"Yeah whatever. Bring on the stiffs. When do I start?"

"Tomorrow morning."

***

"Hey hey! I'm ready to chop up some body parts! Let's get this show on the road!" Marla laughed, flipping her baseball cap to the side and striking a punk rocker pose. The greying man standing in the main lobby smirked.

"You must be Miss Werthson." he told her, shaking her hand. "A very enthusiastic pupil. I'm Mr Mortican. I think we should start with a tour." He led her through the large swinging door and through a cold, dark hallway. Just wait until I tell the guys I saw a bunch of stiffs! They're gonna freak! she thought to herself with a self-satisfied smirk. "This is our refrigerating system. Each drawer holds one body. You will be required to clean the skin so I can perform autopsies." He began showing her all the tools he used including the embalmer. Marla made a disgusted face. "Isn't that what bimbos put in their lips to make them look like blowfish?" she asked.

"That would be collagen, but the substances are similar, yes."

"Reason number one million and one why I'll never be a model." Marla sighed, sticking out her tongue. What losers.

"That concludes our tour. I look forward to working with you. I have to leave to do some paperwork but I'm sure you'll be alright here by yourself."

"No sweat." Once Mr. Mortican had exited the room, Marla whistled under her breath. "Sweet!" she muttered. She walked around the room, examining each refrigerated drawer and looking closely at all the tools. Thirty minutes passed and Mr. Mortican still hadn't returned. Marla had already scanned every inch of the room and wanted to see some autopsy action. Impatient, she strode over to the door and made to leave when a thump caught her attention. She looked down at her pocket and pulled out her iPod to make sure it wasn't still playing. It wasn't. With a shrug, she placed it back in her pocket and went to push open the door when another thump met her ears, this one much louder.

"Hey! Is anyone there? Let me out of this thing!" a muffled voice came from behind her. With a startled gasp, Marla whipped around.

"What the hell?" she murmered, tentatively taking a few steps back into the center of the room. More thumping could be heard as if someone were beating their fists against the side of one of the drawers.

"HEY!" the voice bellowed. Jesus, there's someone alive in here! Marla thought in panic. She followed the voice to the drawer it was coming from and tried to open it. Thankfully, it wasn't locked and the drawer swung open. A dead body lay there. "I must be losing it..." she muttered, prepared to close the drawer when the eyes of the body snapped open.

"Took you long enough!" he barked and Marla jumped backwards, screaming. That was all she remembered before everything went black.

***

"It's really too bad." Miss White murmered the following Monday. "She seemed so excited about that placement. I wonder what on earth could have frightened her so badly that she needed hospitalization."

"I think it's just too much to handle. I hope you'll understand my refusal to take any more high school students." Mr. Mortican told her and Miss White nodded.

"Of course. I'm very sorry."

"So am I." he answered, patting her hand before leaving the school's office. Jason never did know how to keep quiet! he fumed to himself. He chases away every student we get! The others have more sense than him. I think it's time to dispose of that one...





 
 
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