The Dead And The Risen

Chapter Two: Getting Out

I pound on the ceiling, now desperate to know where and when I am.
I pound harder, attempting to break the strong wood.
After a final punch, the wood above me gives way.
I push more pieces away, creating a large hole, just big enough to pull my skinny frame through.
As I break more of the wood, I start to claw at the loose dirt that begins to fall onto my head.
It falls into my eyes, mouth and hair, making me uncomfortable.
The dirt is loose, and crumbles around me as I dig further.
Soon, I find footholds in the walls after I have dug higher than I can reach.

Only a short while afterwards, I have a fist full of fresh grass and I can see midnight sky above me. I take a deep breath- even though I apparently don't need to do that anymore- and sit on the edge of the hole.
Kicking away the edges, I widen the hole a bit so I can see what was confining me.
In the moonlight, I can make out the shattered but glossy sheen of a long piece of wood with a shoulder width hole in it about 6 feet down.

A coffin.

I back away from the hole, stand up, and dust off my black shoes and red satin dress.

I just crawled out of the grave.

I turn to my left and see a headstone- no, MY headstone apparently. It reads;

"Clarissa Marilyn Korchack, an only child, and a sophomore in high-school, she was very loved and will be missed dearly. 1997-2014"

That's a pretty good place to start.

My name is Clarissa.
And I am supposed to be dead.
Fantastic.

•••••

I notice a fluttering paper in the distance, and all of me begs for it to be a newspaper- I need to know where and when I am.
I snatch it from the ground and flip to the front, finding the date.

September 25, 2014

So I'm still in the same year. Fantastic...
I flip through the newspaper until I find the obituary pages. Running my finger down the page, I search for my name; begging the powers that my parents bought a space for me in the paper......
Clarissa Korchack is printed on the page in bold letters
I find my space on the page, and read through the paragraph looking for the cause of death.

"Clarissa Marilyn Korchack was killed the night of September 20th at the age of 16 after being shoved off a balcony of a five story apartment building, she will be missed"

I let out a long sigh.
I'm supposed to be dead, but yet here I am.
I walk a few feet over to a bench under the awning of a bakery. Holding my head in my hands, I stare at the signs hanging from the stores lining the sidewalk.
One at the end of the block catches my eye and sparks a memory.
A store decorated with the Gothic, Punk Rock, and the macabre.
A place that I can now remember, one that I went to all the time before I died.
A little store called Death&Decay.
My mood instantaneously lightens. Maybe I could get through this...
Maybe I had a chance.