“Mom? Where are you?” Mark screamed.

“Up here, honey. The TV. I’ve always wanted to be on TV,” she said, smiling. “Although, I would have preferred to be alive, but,” she let the last work hang in the air, rhetorically.

“Where am I? The hospital; a gun. I remember – oh no.”

“Yes, dear, you chickened out and…well. What a mess,” she said, shaking her head as she tapped her finger on the inside of the TV screen. Tap Tap. “One shot through your head with your daddies glock.”

Mark tried to stand up, but as he reached for the IV stand his hand passed through it as if it wasn’t there. He stared at his fading hand, then moving it slowly to the top of his head his fingers found the edge of the hole.

“But, why am I here? Why are you on TV?” he said, sticking his finger in the hole and shuddering violently.

“Oh, I died too; a broken heart. I went to heaven, whereas you…well, you’re not. In Heaven, I mean,” she said, with a frown.

“Then where in the Hell am I?” he said, his voice rising.

“Not yet, dear.”