If I Die Tomorrow

Decomposition

She lay on the ground, a robe of blood veiling her pale skin. Her silver hair, mussed up from the accident, cradled her head like a pillow of light, darkened by death. Her heart continued beating, spreading the red with each quieting thump. People surrounded her in a circle, murmuring, pointing. Screams echoed in the background as curious spectators glimpsed the damage. The paramedics didn't make it on time. She didn't survive.
__________

The mortician was very skilled. He'd managed to sew up the gash running down her chest, reattach the hair that had been ripped off of her scalp, and even kept the porcelain white of her skin from going the gray of death. Still, she was too pale, too still, too false. Her face had been caked in makeup from the mortician's attempt to make her body a little less gruesome. Inside, though, bacteria was eating up her insides.

The funeral was open casket. Her family cried, the minister preached, the driver that hit her was never the same again. Her body lay silent the entire time, not a single movement.
__________

As she was being lowered into the ground, six feet into the dirt, the family threw flowers down and cried. The flowers smacked onto the casket, smearing pollen over the finished black wood. The casket curved inward slightly, groaning, as the growing weight of the sun-warmed soil pressed down from above. The makeup on her face began to melt. The replenishing fluids that the mortician applied to her were worn down in the warmth. 

__________

Her bodily tissues began breaking down. She began emitting a stench horrible to the human nose, but extremely attractive to multiple insects. Maggots, beetles, and mites had finally broken through the wood and were feasting on her body.

__________

Long afterward, when there was nothing left but her bones and the clothes that barely covered them, she was alone. There nothing but the air and the corpses of the bugs to keep her company.

Death. It's very lonely.