I’ve worked at a morgue in my small town for the past 12 years; it’s not exactly the career I dreamed of growing up, but it pays the bills. All kinds of people come through here, old people who died of natural causes, teenagers who died in violent car accidents, victims of murder, and being in a small town, it’s not entirely uncommon for me to know them. That never gets easy, but you have a job to do, and it’s important to not let your emotions get in the way. I started this job as soon as I got out of high school, I was desperate for a job, and this was the first place to take me in. The owner Lucas Ross is the man who trained me, on my first day on the job, the first thing he told me was to never look at them in the eyes. I thought he was joking, but he was a family friend I have known for years, I could tell by the look he gave me that he was dead serious. When I questioned him about it, he told me it was better not to know, some things you can’t unsee and that he’s made that mistake before and to just make it a habit to Never. Look. In. Their. Eyes.
The reason I decided to tell someone this after 12 years on the job is because today is the day I’m going to look at one of them in the eyes. Today, an 18-year-old girl came in, she had graduated the day before, her and her friends were celebrating, got a little too drunk and decided they should go for a drive. I went through the embalming process, cleaned her up, and used makeup on the parts of the body with cuts. After finishing my work, I decided it was time. I used my fingers to lift both of her eyelids. I didn’t know what to expect, I gazed into her eyes, and I saw myself behind the wheel of the car. I heard the tires screeching, the other girls screaming, and saw the car getting closer and closer to a tree. Then, on impact, I was back, back in the morgue, hands gripping the table. I tried thinking of an explanation, but there was no denying it, I saw her last moments. For most people, what I experienced would be enough to convince them to never do it again. But it filled me with curiosity. I started looking into the eyes of every single body that came through the morgue. Seeing people’s last moments through their eyes really gave me a new perspective on life.
When I got the call about my wife’s death, I knew I had to be the one to work on her. I didn’t want anyone else putting hands on my wife. I did my job, and looked into the eyes of my wife one last time. I saw myself, arms extending as I pushed her off the cliff. I ruled the death an accident.
More: I work at a morgue, we aren’t allowed to look the bodies in the eyes. Here’s a good article from https://reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1sphnwq/i_work_at_a_morgue_we_arent_allowed_to_look_the/: I’ve worked at a morgue in my small town for the past 12 years; it’s not exactly the career I dreamed of growing up, but it pays the bills. All kinds of people come through here, old people who died of natural causes, teenagers who died in violent car accidents, victims of murder, and being in a small town, it’s not More here: I work at a morgue, we aren’t allowed to look the bodies in the eyes.