Does smoking make much of a difference if you’re already dead, anyway? You can’t just meet with him in a graveyard, Thomas. That’s grim, even for the undead. Find him somewhere else before then — is there some way you can contact him? It’s so strange seeing you all happy, and sappy. I love it. I was getting so used to our collective misery thanks to mum and dad being home.
It’s not the health risk, its something about how our systems can’t withstand having any kind of substance go through it...Well, we can’t exactly meet at the local park or get coffee - can we? Seeming as everyone thinks we’re dead. I could call his house, I guess? Send a letter? Hey, I’m happy but I am not being sappy - I’m just glad my best friend is alive - well, that he’s not dead too. I can be miserable just for you sister, don’t worry. It’ll only take one comment from our parents to bring down the mood.
Because you smell. Kidding. Of course he’s still him! I mean, you haven’t changed, I doubt he would. How is he? I haven’t really seen Ivan around since things were, well, normal. Have you made plans to see him again? It’s good to know that being dead hasn’t driven you two apart, or anything.
Funny, funny stuff, Kat. I just thought - well, it didn’t really clicked that he died, too. I just thought he lived. He’s good, I think - he’s still smoking, which I was told explicitly we weren’t meant to do in our condition...It’s just the same old him. Not really, I was just going to go back to the graveyard and assume I’d find him there? I don’t really know how to handle this situation.
Alright, alright. At least you like animals — I’m pretty sure mum and dad would get rid of him if they could. Well, where do you guys stand now? I can’t imagine everything just goes back to normal after both of you died.
I like animals, they just don’t seem to like me. Just like our parents, ‘cept I don’t like them. I don’t know - everything just seemed normal, we didn’t really talk about being dead or anything. He was there - and I was there. He’s still absolutely him - he’s still stubborn but kind. He still has his hair parted in the same way, and he was wearing those boots he always does.
Hey, I bought him for you. Stop trying to turn him against me. Yes - he’s the undead. I saw him - he looks exactly the same except for a massive gash on his head...and I talked to him - he was at the graveyard - it’s him, Kat.
It’s one thirty in the morning, and both boys are wasted out of their mind - slurring and stumbling and holding onto each other for dear life as they wander outside. Tom pulls his jumper over his shoulders tighter and linking his arm with Ivan’s, feeling his head spin and his stomach contents threatening to come out across the sidewalk. Ivan insists that they don’t need to get a cab - that he’ll be absolutely fine, and they’ll crash at his (for one day or a couple), and it’ll all be okay.
“Don’t ya trust me, Tommy? I’ve only had a couple - I’ll be fine.”
They’ve been best friends for years - they’ve broken windows together and scratched their knees together. They were inseparable, always within arms reach of each other and as a couple of Tom’s ex-girlfriend’s would say it was almost as if he was dating Ivan - not them. Tom just shrugged it off, and would let the whiskey he stole from his father burn his throat and he’d stare into Ivan’s bedroom ceiling (a map of the world badly plastered across it) and let his mind travel through each planet.
Tom can’t tell if he’s exhausted or if he’s queasy - and he rests his head against the window as he stares (it’s the only way to describe the action), a soft smile growing on his face as his best friend appears and disappears with the streetlights - and he can feel his heart beat in his chest and then - with a swerve and a bang - he’s gone.
There was everything, and then there was nothing. He was floating in the sky but also sinking into the sea. He couldn’t feel anything, falling through a darkness he couldn’t control - his mind tearing away at itself until all there was his last sight, the last thing he saw. Ivan.
And, as soon as he was ripped away - he was brought back. The coffin was surprisingly soft, the fabric falling around him but all he could do was bang against the coffin door. His fist went through the wood and if he could, he would have bleed - but instead of hurt dirt just fall through the hole and he just kept on going. He came back from the dead - and now he tore away at those who lived.
He was medicated within months, a strange cure pumping through his brain as his nerves reconnected and he could think without the hunger overtaking his mind. The first thought he had; his first lucid thought, was of Kat’s face - of his sister - but it faded slowly and in the darkness. But when he was neither alive or the undead the only thing that he could properly hold onto was Ivan.
Ivan brought back human emotions, he brought back a heartbeat, memories, what would some call a soul. Kat rounded it out, and slowly he became a being again - a sentient being who could think and could emotionally feel - just if you hit him it wouldn’t hurt all that much. And he went home, tired and lost - back home to see Kat, and wait away the days until he could move off to medical school and it’d be acceptable - or just disappear.
The first night back in his bed he couldn’t sleep - he grabbed his jumper and went for a walk, up to the graveyard and sat and waited for the first sign of the sun to come up before heading back down to his house. It became a ritual, a way of coping with being locked in the basement, every single night he’d wander away from the walls of his house (the one he’d planned to leave).
“Is that my jumper, mate?” A figure blowing smoke into the sky said on the 12th night, a voice full of humour that was like warmth inside of Tom’s heart - the voice that reminded him of what the world should be - and Tom turned around, hiding all his thoughts with a shrug and a smile. Ivan had a deep cut on his forehead, where he’d been stitched back together and his smile revealed slight damage to his teeth. But it was still Ivan, with his walk as he took steps towards his friend, wrapping him up in a large hug.
Shut up, of course you know it’s fake reality. No — stop — you’re so unfunny it actually hurts my entire soul. No one in this family does humour well, except maybe me. But I’m the comedic genius exception. Of course! I was a naive, artistically inclined child. I could never turn down the chance to make a card. Even if it was just gonna get thrown out. Yeah, we get it, you’re an overachiever. Excellent! I’m going to get embarrassingly excited, soon. Look, Buble is fine, but Bieber is better. His Christmas songs are a work of art, Tom.
I actually didn’t, thank you for ruining my favourite show lil sis. I am so funny, and you know it. I am the funniest person in the entire world, with the exception of our mother, and you’re like the unfunniest person ever it’s ridiculous. You could have just drawn a smiley face on the envelope? True, I never threw out any of your cards you made for your birthday. I kept them all in a box. Yes, yes, I know I’m perfect. Awesome, we’ll have lights and everything. It’ll be the best tree on the street. Nope, no, nope. Won’t hear you diss the Buble.
I’m just going for reality, here. Seeming as it is reality TV…Geddit? He’s such a lovely parent, he’s always been there for us, through the thick and through the thin. Yeah, Wii Sports was incredible, how many times did I beat you in tennis again? Was it every single time? I have no clue, I think I got more love from randoms on facebook than from either of them. Nope, you shut up, dork. Of course, we can go tomorrow and find the tallest one. Do we need to get decorations as well? Oh please, it isn’t even Christmas yet. Michael Buble is the man.
Psh — as if reality TV is real anyways. Most of it is scripted, y’know. You have the worst sense of humour, Tom. I swear. A model parent, seriously. The Father’s Day cards I made at school were all truthful. Shut up, I won once or twice. Besides, I was good at the bowling. So ha. Well, at least randoms on Facebook get reminders as to when your birthday is. Helps, I guess. I’m not the dork, you’re the dork… dork. Yay! Um, I think we have some decorations in the storage cupboard, so we’re covered there. It’s almost Christmas, and Michael Bublé is overrated. Justin Bieber’s Christmas album is where its at.
What do you mean Keeping Up With The Kardashians isn’t real? It’s scripted? What? I have the best sense of humour, what are you talking about? I’m the funniest guy I know. You bothered making him a card? I just bought one and wrote ‘from Thomas’ in it. I don’t recall that. Yeah, you were good at tennis, but I was the best at softball, and tennis, and golf, and boxing, but yeah, you can have bowling. True, they care enough to tell you ‘Happy Birthday’. Nice comeback, dorky dork dork. Good, we can get a tress and use those decorations. What the hell are you saying? How dare you diss the Buble?
It’s a loose Kardashian recasting here. So I think we can make an exception in the half-siblings department. Not your fault, glad you’re here, though. I know! And it’s been such a blast having him as my parent for seventeen years. Oh, the Wii was great. But you’re right. What’s a proper birthday even like, anyways? I’m sure it’s heartwarming, or some crap. No, you shut up. Really? I’m so excited! God, I sound like a little kid. That’s okay, it’d just be nice to spend some time with you. I guess some proper catching up is due after 2 years. Damn straight I’m lucky, I don’t want anymore singing from you.
I’m just going for reality, here. Seeming as it is reality TV...Geddit? He’s such a lovely parent, he’s always been there for us, through the thick and through the thin. Yeah, Wii Sports was incredible, how many times did I beat you in tennis again? Was it every single time? I have no clue, I think I got more love from randoms on facebook than from either of them. Nope, you shut up, dork. Of course, we can go tomorrow and find the tallest one. Do we need to get decorations as well? Oh please, it isn’t even Christmas yet. Michael Buble is the man.
Well, you were the one going on about your ass. Besides, I think you and Kanye West would make a decent couple. Yeah, but you’ve also been gone for two years. So I’m adjusting to an actual supportive family member. Absolutely! I think his Christmas spirit just shines through. Exactly! Why would they need to say sorry for missing birthdays when they can just… get us a Wii. Ooh, good comeback, Tom. You really got me there, nerd. A real tree? Oh my God, yes please! Please, no. My ears are bleeding, Thomas. They’re bleeding.
Okay, you’ve got me there. But if you’re Kendall doesn’t that mean I’m only your half-brother? Well, I am sorry about that, but I’m back now. Exactly the same. He’s not only a joy to be around at Christmas, but all year long. He’s just the happiest person I’ve ever met. I mean, Wii’s are pretty cool, don’t get me wrong, but maybe a proper birthday would have been good. Shut up, nerd. Tomorrow, we’ll go out and get one. I mean, I may need to keep my face hidden the entire time, but we’ll go out and get one. Please, you love it, but you’re lucky I don’t know the rest of the words.
You can be Kim. I want to be Kendall, I think. Wow — is that what support feels like? God, I’m definitely going to enjoy getting used to it. I know! The man is practically Santa himself, all jolly and festive. If anything, he’s the most high-spirited one in this family. Obviously, I mean Zookeeper Barbie was the best. I guess that’s Mum and Dad telling us that they love us. iPods and Barbies. What a great way of showing it. Of course you wanted a book about biology, you nerd. I’m not asking for lights this year, I think that’s a bit of a push. I just want a tree. No — oh my god, stop. You’re the worst singer, please stop. This is the worst, Thomas!
Kim? Me? And what makes you say that? Fine, you can be Kendall, suit yourself. Hey, I am always supportive. Always. Oh, I’m sure he’s secretly the jolly red man who spreads joy and love across the world. He’s a bundle of fun, honestly. Love our father, love him so much. Of course, you know because why use words, when you can just buy stuff...I’m not a nerd, you’re a nerd, nerd. I’ll help you decorate a tree...we can go get a real one? I’m the best singer, what are you talking about? Make my wish come true, oooooooohhhhhhh, all I want for Christmas is yoooooooou.
Sure, I could live with that. No, don’t be Kylie! You’re not shady enough to be her, anyways. Still, it would be kind of funny if you were. Of course, what kind of sister would I be if I didn’t support your choices? Don’t get my hopes up, as much as I’d love that, Mum and Dad wouldn’t be able to live with themselves if I wanted to be an artist. You’re very kind, though. Not really, I always persuaded Dad to let my play carols, though. True. I got a Zookeeper Barbie before anyone else in my class, but no actual Christmas tree decorating. Oh God, please don’t sing. Tom, you have a terrible voice.
Which Kardashian sister would I be, then? Kendall? Because I’m obviously the most attractive. Well, it doesn’t matter what Mum and Dad say, if you want to be an artist, you should be an artist. He would love that, he just loves cheery christmas carols, he just loves celebrating things and being happy and cheery. That’s what matters. I was the first kid to have an iPod in my class, I think what I actually wanted was some book about biology. Oh yeah, no family tree decorating, I think our house was always the one without christmas lights up in the front garden. I don’t want that much for Christmas, there is just one thing I need...I don’t care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree...
We might get sued by the Kardashian’s, but why not risk it, right? If you’re so ‘taboo’ I think the public would just want to watch it more. Can’t say I blame you, really. You’re welcome, not everyone in this town gets to feast their eyes upon my talents. That seems best. Whilst you’re reclaiming your stuff, I might get the Christmas tree out. We haven’t really celebrated since you, well, died. Hopefully Christmas will make everything seem less grim. Alright, if you say so.
Okay, maybe if we alter the title slightly, like....’Believe the Bier’s Dysfunction’? Maybe, I can be our version of Kylie, hated by all, but still somehow adored. Why thank you for supporting my life choices, clearly got me to where I am. You should try and get into a gallery or something, so the entire world can see how talented my little sister is. Did we ever celebrate Christmas though? All I remember was getting the newest of some technology that I didn’t even ask for and then eating mum’s terrible cooking. But this year, we’ll make it good. I might even sing a couple of carols.
There should be a reality TV show about us. Quite frankly, I’m surprised there isn’t one already. Oh, of course. We’re always the bad guys in this family. Yeah, that really pisses them off. Fair enough, so I guess the same laws apply to you. Maybe. Yeah, better than the basement I suppose. No, just put it into boxes. You can go downstairs and go through it if you want. I’m not sure if Mum and Dad went through it all. I mean, I wouldn’t put it past them. Why — is there something I should know?
Oh, they’d love that, ‘Keeping up the Bier’s?’ Is that a good title? But I suppose that now that I’m the living dead the public won’t be so into it, anymore. Yeah, not the biggest fan of dark enclosed spaces. The spare room will be fine, plus I get to see your art all the time that way. I might do that, would like a different jumper rather than the one the hospital gave me. They probably did, knowing them. Nah, don’t worry yourself little sis.
I guess we’re just internally indebted to them. Like, I’m sure all of this emotional turmoil builds character, right? Oh — and when they ground you for missing a public function. Totally justified. Their excuses are great until you try and turn it against them — then it’s ‘bullshit’. And what better reason could there be. Legally? Who knows. I never lie, I’m as honest as I am genetically blessed. Okay, c’mon. You’ll probably be staying in here, your old room got cleaned out after… everything that happened. Everything’s in the basement, though. I wouldn’t let them throw it away.
And, we, sis, are absolutely full of character. Exactly, and when you miss dinners for parties with your friends who actually like you suddenly you’re the bad guy in that situation. Or those times I came home wasted while they were hosting a function. Nobody has a clue, I don’t think we were expecting a rising of the undead. Should of guessed that, it’ll be nice. You didn’t go through my stuff, right? Well, you I mind less, but did mum and dad do that?
At least now we probably have the lowest expectations in the world when it comes to adult figures. Guess we can’t say Mum and Dad never taught us anything. I just wish they weren’t so awful. I think it’s worse. I’d rather they just be conservative than try to manipulate us. Wow, being undead really lost you some brownie points, Thomas. At this rate I’ll be the only one left in the will. I’m not making anything up! Your ego is larger than your butt. Sure, sure. It is. The picture’s hanging in the spare room if you ever want to see it.
Exactly, we’re set up for life, thanks to them. I think I have more emotional scarring from them rather than from rising out of the grave. True, but don’t you just love them trying to convince you they’re in the right? Some of their excuses are hilarious. Oh you bet, I came back haunt them. Can they even leave things to me anymore? I’m technically dead. Shhhhh, you’re still lying. Just accept the truth, I am physically flawless. Of course I want to see it, show it to me, sis?
