Jackson couldn’t understand it, why in the world was his best friend sitting around crying. More importantly why wouldn’t he just relax and tell him what was wrong? Sure Jackson had his theories like homesickness, he knew exactly how they felt being far from home himself, but he’d never seen his friend cry because he missed his family before so why now? It was overly frustrating to him.

    “BamBam, why are you crying?” he asked the question over and over only to receive no response Jackson felt useless. How could he of all people not know why his best friend was upset? He’d practically adopted the kid as a younger brother by this point in time, they talked about everything, Jackson had even been the one BamBam had come to when he’d had questions about what a word meant relying on the older to help him learn how to survive in the foreign land. It didn’t make sense, and that’s all there was to it.

    “Kunpimook?” Jackson tested the boy’s real name, which he’d rarely used due to his fear of mispronunciation, once again getting zero signs from Bam that he’d even heard him. This was starting to go from weird to ing scary in Jackson’s opinion. “If this is some sort of prank, it’s not funny!” Jackson was almost yelling as he stood up, “BamBam, look at me!” Jackson could have laughed as BamBam lifted his head up from it’s position in his arms looking around the room.

    “Jackson?” BamBam’s voice was barely a whisper.

“No it’s your mom,” Jackson took a deep breath to prepare for the scolding he wanted to give the younger, probably something that would end in complaining about how he would never get a decent job with that purple stripe in his hair that he kept insisting was ‘cool’ like it always did. Jackson’s plans were however cleanly cut off when he noticed something about the table they’d been sitting at.

‘ It’d been a good idea at first Mark had thought that the table would be a good conversation starter when they had guests, of course it’d really done nothing but become fuel for the pile of inappropriate jokes that Jackson was so fond of making, drawing crudely on the surface of the table and laughing at the marks left when people stood. ‘

The table was heat sensitive. Jackson hadn’t left a mark on it. Where BamBam’s hand rested the table had turned a light brown but where Jackson placed his the table remained dark.

“BamBam,” the voice caused Jackson to look away from his hand to see Mark walking towards the two, “What are you doing in here? The funeral’s about to start,” he watched as BamBam began to stutter about swearing he heard Jackson’s voice. Mark frowned as he placed his hand on the younger’s face sighing, “You probably just imagined it, by now he’s probably been reincarnated into something else, like a slug.” BamBam smiled at Mark’s joke, Jackson could tell he was forcing it though it was visible throughout the rest of his face as the pair walked out of the room. Jackson guessed they were heading to whatever funeral Mark had mentioned, he didn’t want to think about who’s it was as he looked back at the table the hand print still visible where BamBam had touched it.

It didn’t take long for Jackson to give in to the urge to wander downstairs even if his gut feeling said he didn’t want to know. Curiosity killed the cat, and he was curious as hell about what could be going on. Who died, and why was Mark talking about his reincarnation. Of course he knew deep down. What other answer could there be. But there’s nothing to kick start your thought process then seeing your own corpse surrounded by your friends and family to help you realise, you’re dead.

AN// I'm actually thinking about making a part 2 for this but idk rn, but comments and junk would probably motavaite me to do it