I Will, I Won't

Well, here I am. Lying on the floor, head and neck aching, unable to do anything except stare at things until my bad eyes cross and double them. I was told to stay off of devices as much as possible after getting a concussion, but I never imagined it would be this hard. I can’t talk to my friends, I can’t post on Instagram, I can’t listen to music… Oh man. I can’t write either. How am I supposed to satisfy my energetic and overactive brain now? I’ll have to go back to how people entertained themselves in the olden days; daydreaming. It can’t be too hard, right?

~~

It’s 77 years in the future. I am an actual fossil and living in a pretty senior home. There’s a plant in the corner of my room and a window near my bed. I see a mirror out of the corner of my eye but avoid looking into it. I don’t wanna know what I look like past 90 years old. I put my arms behind my head and rest my head on them, sighing.

“Ahhh~ My children put me in the right nursing home.”

“Ma’am, you have no children.”

I jump. A man in formal clothing is standing in my doorway, a confused look on his rather ugly face.

“I don’t?”

“Uh, no. Do we need to check your memory?”

I cackle.

“My memory’s fine. I’m practically sixteen.”

“Ma’am, you are 92 years old and aren’t getting any younger, no offense.”

I sniff, playing with the wrinkly skin on the back of my hand. Who does this kid think he is?

“So? My great grandfather lived to be 101 and he remembered just fine. No cap. It’s called genetics.”

The fancy man’s face scrunches up again.

“What did you just say?”

“It’s called genetics. I think your memory better get checked.”

“No, the other thing.”

“No cap? Remember kid, you’re talking to a 92 year old lady. Everyone said that when I was in high school. They also said-”

“Ma’am, we have more important business to take care of. I’m here to help you with your will.”

“My… will?”

I get to write my will? Nice. Only problem is, I have no idea what I’ve acquired over the years I skipped over. I guess that’s where my imagination comes in.

“Yes, your will. Let’s get to it.”

“Okay. Um… the mansion goes to-”

“Which one?”

“Stop interrupting me, fancy man. The… uh… the white one. It goes to my… nephew. Cause I don’t have kids. Is that right?”

The fancy man nods, and scribbles something down.

“ ‘Kay. What about the brick one?”

“My niece.”

~~

What am I saying? Why would I need one mansion, let alone two? 

~~

“Scratch all that. Give my ONE normal-sized house to my nephew. My niece can have my nail polish collection. That’s probably worth the same.”

Fancy-man frowns.

“Ma’am, your collection is probably all dried up. When’s the last time you used nail polish from your collection?”

Right. Curious, I look down at my old lady hand. What was previously a blank canvas is now a long stiletto nail with glittery holographic green polish. I love daydreaming.

“Before I lived in here, silly. It can’t have been too long ago. Give ‘em to her anyways and if she doesn’t like it tell her she can have my ATEEZ albums too.”

“...Who?”

I facepalm.

“Only the best performance group of all time! Your generation sucks. Give her the albums, maybe she’ll like looking through the photobooks. My boys are so pretty, her eyes will be blessed.”

“I have no idea who ‘your boys’ are, but considering your age they’ve probably all died already.”

~~

THAT’S IT. DAYDREAM, YOU HAVE GONE TOO FAR.

~~

“Don’t make me cry, fancy boy. Just cause I don’t have periods anymore doesn’t mean I can’t get emotional.”

The man sighs, glancing down at his clipboard.

“You aren’t making any sense, ma’am. Do I need to call a nurse?”

“No. No nurses. Put the albums down for my niece. If she doesn’t appreciate it, she can have-”

“Ma’am, if you keep giving your niece items, your nephew will feel left out.”

“He got my entire house! This is more than fair!”

Fancy-man groans.

“Ma’am-”

“Stop calling me that. My name is-”

I shudder as an aggressive sneeze suddenly shakes my wrinkly body. I sniff, pulling my blue plaid blanket further over me. The man rolls his eyes.

“For formality reasons, I call you ma’am. Will you please stop acting so immature? Surely after living 92 years you would have learned something about how to treat others with respect.”

I grin.

“Watch your tongue, whippersnapper. Haven’t your parents taught you to respect your elders?”

He sighs, rubbing his temples.

“Ma’am, I don’t think you get the idea of a will. Your descendants won’t want these terrible things. They’re expecting money.”

~~

Maybe I should have just went with the mansions.

~~

“Money, eh? In that case, send for them and we’ll discuss. If they’re unreasonable I’ll bury my money with me and add a security system to my grave so that when they try to steal it I’ll bust them. I’ll invest in two fake graves with glass gravestones and position them so they set fire to the roofs of their houses every day as the sun sets. I’ll rise from my grave every day at midnight to scare their children and steal the vegetables from their gardens. I’ll use those vegetables to make vegetable batteries and shove those in their household items instead of actual batteries. I’ll-”

“Please, ma’am! You aren’t making any sense! Let me just call a nurse and we’ll-”

“No nurses! Send for my relatives!”

The man grumbles and leaves the room, pulling out his phone on the way. The door slams, leaving me in quiet once again.

~~

My brain hurts, but that was fun. Now, to tell my sister I’m going to make her kids very angry when I’m older...