Stories

Am I really dead

Am I really dead

*In this exercise we were told to write two pages of anything, so I started with an idea of a girl who gets murdered and then ran with it from there.

She wished she was living in a fairy tale right now. One that granted her three wishes. 

While everyone knows what the first wish would be (more wishes, only an idiot would miss that), her second wish would be to be alive again.

Alive and breathing, not murdered and dead, lying here by the side of a dyke.

She plays out the three wishes scenario in her head, wondering at the same time does she even have a head anymore? If you’re dead and floating above your body, do your body parts work like they do when you’re alive? Do you still call them the same thing?

The weightlessness and calmness are what strikes her first. 

She’s not startled, or frightened. 

In fact, there’s absolutely no emotion in her at all. If she were to dig deep enough she might say she was a little irritated because she can see her shoes poking out of the bush. 

Shoes she got on sale.

Shoes on her dead feet. 

Shoes she’ll never wear again. God, she loved those shoes. 

A thought drifts through her. Is she a ghost now? Is this proof there is no Heaven or Hell? Or, maybe she needs to avenge her death like Patrick Swayze did in the movie “Ghost” and then she can move on to the afterworld. She vaguely remembers seeing that movie with her little sister.

Avenging her own death would be a first, she mused. But, then again, today was filled with a lot of firsts.It was the first time she had ever been in a Maserati, the first time in the VIP section at the club, the first time she paired her shoes with that skirt

This was also a day of lasts. The last time she will feel the ground under her feet, the breeze against her skin, the breath entering and leaving her body. 

The thread connecting her to this world is fading. Like a mist. She can see it dissipate, getting dimmer.

I hope someone finds me soon, she wishes.

She’s quite certain it will be a jogger, or a dog walker who will find her. 

Won’t that ruin their day? Of course it could be worse. They could be her floating with the wind, losing touch with the living and fading away like the dead tend to do.

Time will tell, she thought. If time is still an option for her.

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