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  from Grandmama by Bert LaVey   

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They want me to kiss Grandmama.

She is dead. I am only nine. No thanks!

What nine-year-old kid wants to go to a funeral?

At nine-year-old kid wants to go to a funeral?

Even it if was Grandmama's wake.

I had comic BOOKS to read, movies to see, TV shows to watch.

Little girls to tease. Tonka TRUCKS that had to be destroyed.

Fook a funeral!

I dreaded funerals!

But my mother was making me go whether I wanted to go or not.

Grandmama was cool when she was alive.

She was my favorite Grandmother even though I killed her cat by mistake and she never knew it.

It was night time too. We had to go to what they called a wake.

I was awake alright and ready to jump out the car.

We arrived at the church and my mother wanted me to go in alone to pay my respects since I was her favorite. I wished I wasn't her favorite now! I was only nine years old and this was as close to death as I wanted to be to death for now!

Well I didn't mind being her favorite as long as she was alive! Now that she was dead I didn't want nothing to do with her.

She was at the end of the long aisle that went down the church corridor. I thought it would take me forever to get to her coffin.

The more I walked, the longer it took me to get down the aisle, like it was expanding with each step I took, getting longer and longer.

And it was really creepy and it was dark and drab like in an old Catholic church you see in vampire movies. The candles made t...

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