Life After Death by Ice Cream

I was floating in a soft cocoon of sleep, the kind where you forget about everything deadlines, responsibilities, the general tragedy of adult life. The world was calm and blissfully silent. Then, without warning, my phone alarm went off with the shrill urgency of a fire drill, dragging me back to reality.

With a groan, I slapped my hand over the phone, managing to hit the snooze button without even opening my eyes. Mission accomplished. I sank back into my pillow, determined to reclaim those precious minutes of sleep.

Thirty minutes later, I jolted awake, adrenaline surging. "Oh crap, I'm late for school!" I yelped, scrambling out of bed, my heart hammering as if I were about to face a firing squad. But as I rushed toward the closet, I stopped. "Wait... I'm not a student anymore," I muttered, blinking at my reflection in the mirror.

Relief washed over me like a cool wave. I exhaled deeply and crawled back under the covers, already halfway back to dreamland when reality hit me like a slap to the face.

"Shit! I'm a teacher!" I shouted, jumping out of bed with newfound panic. I ran into the bathroom like a madwoman, splashing water on my face and brushing my teeth with the speed of a racecar pit crew. My reflection stared back at me, unimpressed. Dark circles framed my eyes like parentheses, my hair stuck up at odd angles, and my skin looked like it hadn't seen sunlight in weeks. "Perfect," I muttered, "I look like I just crawled out of a crypt."

I hastily combed through my hair, smoothing it into something that resembled order, before throwing on a white blouse and a fitted blazer my "I'm a responsible adult" uniform paired with a black tailored pair of pants that felt slightly too tight after all the stress-eating I'd done this past month.

With a final glance at my reflection, I tried to muster some confidence. "You've got this," I lied to myself. "You're a professional."

Skipping breakfast, I grabbed my bag and raced out the door, not even bothering to check if I'd locked it. At this point, I was more concerned about getting to school without losing another chunk of my paycheck. The elevator took forever, and I tapped my foot impatiently, watching the numbers change at a snail's pace.

When it finally reached the underground parking garage, I sprinted to my car a dark blue Subaru Forester that had seen better days. A few dings on the side, a suspicious noise when it turned too sharply, and a slightly musty smell from an old coffee spill, but it was mine. I slid into the driver's seat, muttering a quick prayer that today wouldn't be the day it decided to give up the ghost.

The engine sputtered, then roared to life. I breathed a sigh of relief and pulled out of the garage, joining the morning traffic. "If I can make it in ten minutes, maybe they won't notice…" I murmured, weaving through cars like I was in a high-speed chase.

But the universe had other plans. Red lights, jaywalking pedestrians, and a truck that seemed determined to move at a snail's pace everything conspired against me. I cursed under my breath, tapping the steering wheel anxiously.

After what felt like an eternity, I finally screeched into the faculty parking lot. I jumped out, my shoes barely hitting the ground before I was sprinting toward the school entrance. The hallway was eerily silent everyone was already in their classes. At least that meant no one was around to see me slipping in late. Again.

Fourteen minutes late. Not my worst record, but certainly not my best. I turned the corner and saw my students clustered outside my classroom door, looking annoyed. Great, just what I needed.

"Good morning, everyone!" I called out with forced cheerfulness, hurrying to unlock the door. Their eyes followed me, unimpressed. As they filed in, I caught a few muttered complaints, but I just smiled. "Let's get started, shall we?" I chirped, moving quickly to my desk and firing up my laptop.

Just as I was about to begin, a hand shot up from the front row. Charlotte Nguyen, of course. The girl with the oversized glasses and the insatiable curiosity.

"Ms. Lyselle, have you finished grading our tests? It's been a month since we took them," she asked pointedly, and the other students nodded in agreement.

I plastered on my best teacher smile. "Not yet, Charlotte. I've been quite busy with my other classes." A vague answer, but it usually worked. Today, though, it just seemed to irritate them more.

The truth was, I hadn't even looked at their tests. They were still sitting in a neat pile on my desk at home, untouched. I'd considered grading them by throwing darts at a board with grades on it, but that seemed… unethical. So, I decided to start the attendance instead. "Nguyen, Charlotte?"

"Here," she answered, still watching me closely.

"Ramirez, Miguel?" Silence. I marked him as absent. Again.

After stumbling through the attendance, I dived headfirst into my history lesson about the American Civil War. My enthusiasm was met with blank stares and a few yawns, but I soldiered on, gesturing wildly like a theater actor trying to win over a tough crowd. And then, finally, the bell rang for lunch. Sweet, merciful freedom.

Today was payday, and I had plans to treat myself. Maybe some fancy coffee or chocolate would make up for this morning's chaos. I grabbed my purse and bolted toward the exit, determined to enjoy at least twenty minutes of peace.

The local café was buzzing with energy. I ordered an overpriced mocha and a ridiculously decadent pastry, feeling a little better with each sip and bite. The sugar rush hit just right, and I felt my spirits lift. Maybe today wasn't going to be a complete disaster.

I left the café with a smile, unwrapping a piece of chocolate I'd picked up for later. As I stepped out onto the sidewalk, I savored the rich, velvety sweetness melting on my tongue. For a brief, glorious moment, everything seemed perfect.

And then, in an instant, everything wasn't.

There was a blinding flash of white, a loud horn blaring, and the world spun around me. The last thing I saw was a giant ice cream truck, the kind with a cartoon penguin smiling on the side, barreling toward me at full speed. My eyes widened, and I barely had time to think, "Oh, not like this—" before—

BAM.

Darkness. The sweet taste of chocolate still lingered on my tongue as the world went black.