Cold. That's about the only word I can think of to describe this job. Cold. The room is cold, the bodies are cold...even I've turned cold.
It wasn't always this way. I'm sure this all sounds pretty cliché, but it wasn't. I was a husband, a father, a human. But all that's gone now. It's something about those eyes, those lifeless eyes...they change you.
Those piercing blue eyes. Yeah, I remember that one chick. Got shot in the head; her family wanted her fixed up for the funeral. I don't know what she was doing when she took the bullet. I don't know. The usual customer, anyway.
Half her head was blown away. Looked like a 12-gauge did it or something. Pretty nasty job. Her head had a giant chunk missing, like she got bit by a shark; at least, that's how I imagined it. The hair, blondish-brown and stringy if I remember right, was matted down and clumped into piles from all the blood. Some more had run down her face and caked up around her cheek bones, dried completely up. She reeked. I couldn't even recognize her anymore. She didn't even look like a person anymore. She was some kind of creature now.
But those eyes. There was no hiding from them. They pierced through me, penetrated all that scar tissue I'd built up after all these years working with corpses, reached in and grabbed me by my own pathetic soul and tore it to shreds. They drew me in close, close enough to hear them whisper. Those icy blue eyes... I leaned in, and soon we were pupil to pupil. I could see myself staring back, my blue eyes reflecting off hers. We were inseparable; we were one human, one pair of eyes. She saw into me, and I into her. We were connected. And then I knew, once and for all, there was no hiding from those eyes. No hiding from...my daughter.