The life of an undead cheerleader

Waking up

"Help," I pound my hands on the closed door of a dark coffin, "somebody help me please !" I start to think to myself, " I'm in a coffin....that would mean no one can hear me...shit, what am I supposed to do? I'm going to suffocate down here!" I start banging as hard as I can, eventually cracking the wood. Dirt starts to fall through. I close my eyes and hit harder. When it breaks, I start to claw at the soil to get out. I open my eyes. I let out a muffled scream as dirt and bugs fell into my mouth. I try going faster, but I'm running out of breath. As I'm about to faint, my hand feels a cool breeze. I think to my self " fight faith, fight your right there" I start to reach for fresh air and tear at the ground so I can get my head through, but something grabs my hand and pulls up.
A bright light is what I see first; when everything becomes clear, a man is looking at me wide-eyed. "Holy shit, you're alive!!! You... You had a bullet in your head! I should know I diagnosed you dead my self... How how could you be alive!" 
"So..." I shrug
"So you should be dead!!" He screams.
My face becomes red with anger "so you would rather me be dead than alive?!" I sigh. "Look, my name is Faith. Can you help me find my way home...."
He nods" I guess... I mean, I don't know who your family is!" He scratches the back of his neck and sighs. "There is this family that visits your grave every Wednesday have been since you died. I don't know who they are, but I can fix up your grave to make it look like you're still dead and ask them... I mean, if you want."
I smile and nod. The guy seems nice enough, and maybe I will decide not to take my trauma out on him. He looks familiar, though, but he defiantly is not one of the assholes who pushed my limits. I'll ask him his name. I might be able to trust this guy.
"Well, you know who I am, so it's only fair that I know who you are.
He gives some grin. "My name is Sheldon. I help my grandfather here."
I look at him closely, observing his green eyes. He's tan and muscular. I can help but think he's gorgeous... or However, that word translates for a guy. But once again, I can't help but think he looks familiar.
"I'm sorry" I stutter slightly and walk down the rows of graves. " I can't help but think I know you from somewhere..."
He nods " I go to All Saints Preparatory. You were a cheerleader." He walks beside me and shifts nervously. "We dated for three years...."
My eyes widen. I think to myself, "could he have helped plan the prank that pushed me over the edge?"