The smell of freshly cut grass filled the air. Usually this scent would please me but this time it just wasn’t right. I look up and see the faces of the people I love staring down at me. If this was last month, I would still be panicking. I have to admit, I still am a little restless. I mean, how could I not be? You can’t possibly tell me that if you were aware of being lowered into your own grave, you would be relaxed. This may seem insane but maybe if I start from the beginning it will start to make a little more sense.
A few weeks ago, I believe it was on either a Tuesday or Wednesday, I had a heart attack. You see this is very peculiar considering my age and the fact that I appeared to be in pretty good shape. More than once I have been called the “epitome of health”. This sounds pretty cheesy if you ask me, but I still took the compliments. Alright, I was physically fit but my mental state was quite questionable. However, that’s beside the point. You see, the unusual heart attack I had caused me to slip into a coma. A few days later the doctors declared me brain dead.
Almost everyone in my family worked in the medical field, except for me that is, so they know that when the doctors say I’m brain dead I’m practically gone. The only issue with that was that I’m still here. They unplugged me from the machine that kept my heart beating and once it stopped I heard someone call time of death, which was 9:15. I thought to myself that this had to be some nightmare, that this couldn’t possibly be real. I’ll let you in on a little secret, I was wrong about that. This is no dream and there’s probably no waking up this time. I can tell you this though, I’m not dead. Please don’t ask me how I know this, I just do.
My mother planned my funeral and it was full of phony people who didn’t care one bit about me when I was alive. The funny thing about people is that they are incredibly rude to you while you’re alive and act like they’re life wouldn’t be any worse off if you were gone but the moment you actually are gone, they come to your funeral and talk about how great you were and say things like “why do the good always die young” or “what I would give to have them back just for a day” or some other bogus line. I got to experience this first hand. I had always imagined what it would be like to attend my own funeral and it’s exactly what I expected.
You might tell me I have some kind of mental disorder causing all these hallucinations and you might tell me I’m in some extremely vivid dream like those thoughts haven’t occurred to me yet. During the funeral, I actually listened for probably the first 15 minutes and then I kind of zoned out and started thinking about what could be happening to me. Do you want to know what I finally came up with? Absolutely nothing. I sat through the entire rest of the service trying to come up with some explanation, any explanation. Luckily it was open casket so I could see the people that passed by.
I could’ve sworn a woman winked as she walked by, sort of like she knew I could see everyone, but I decided it was coincidental or accidental. The woman was dressed from head to toe in black. We were at a funeral after all. The thing that stuck out most about her was her piercing blue eyes. However, I’d never seen her before; she didn’t even look familiar in the least so why should I even think twice about her? I eventually let it go but the woman stuck in my mind for a while and I’m not quite sure why.
After the funeral, we start the burial process which is what is going on right now. I’m certainly glad they didn’t go with the cremation that they were discussing. My dad was all for it but my mother insisted that I be buried in the cemetery that my grandmother’s in. In fact, the tombstone right next to mine has her name on it. I figured if what I was experiencing was a normal thing, like ghosts or something, I’d be able to see her, too. That, sadly, is not the case. Plus, I can’t move like they say ghosts can. I’m just stuck in my body, in a casket, about to be buried 6 feet underground.
The casket has been closed and I can hear the dirt being piled on top, scoop after scoop. I could start panicking again; that’s probably what a normal person would do. However, I’m not a normal person and I’m just too tired to have any feelings. Finally, a while later I hear it stop and I’m just sitting here in pitch black lighting. Does the air feel a little thin to you?
