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I Am Dead by S. L. Bynum
Saturday, February 3, 2007
Rated "PG" by the Author.
Thoughts of a ghost.
I am dead. I can’t believe I’m really dead.
How did I die? Last thing I remember is being in my car, with the music blasting. I’d just left the mall. All of a sudden, I saw headlights in front of me. They were so bright.
Now I’m standing beside my crushed car. My car. It’s a wreck! My dad will kill me!
No wait, he can’t. I’m already dead. That’s a relief.
But, I’m dead! I mean, I have to be dead. I’m staring at my body, which is still in the mangled car. There is no way I could still be there, but be standing here also, unless I have a twin I don’t know about.
Someone is coming this way! I wonder if can they see me.
Hey, you! What is going on?
Okay, I am definitely dead. That person just walked right through me. I must be a ghost.
A ghost! Can you believe that?
The person, who I realize is a woman with short black hair, is checking the pulse of my body. She realizes I am dead. Well, I could have told her that. If only she could hear me.
The woman is rushing over to the other car. The man in there is moving, and he doesn’t seem to be in bad shape.
The darn bastard who killed me is alive and well, without a scratch.
I now hear the ambulance. I wonder what my parents will think. They will be devastated. If only I could communicate with them somehow. But I’m dead, and I’m a ghost.
Okay, so now what? Am I supposed to still be here? Aren’t I supposed to go to heaven or hell now? Did I get stuck here? Did God decide I’m not bad enough to go to hell, yet not good enough to go to heaven?
In life, I didn’t believe in ghosts. Now I guess I have to. Unless I’m a spirit. Or is that the same thing as a ghost?
The people from the ambulance are rushing to my car. They are finding out there is no need to try and keep me alive. I am dead.
Okay, I mustn’t panic. Can ghosts panic? Maybe I’m dreaming this whole thing. But it feels so real. I don’t think I am dreaming. I’m nightmaring.
Is that a word? Why do I even care? I’m dead!
The police are here. They are saying a drunk driver hit my car head on.
Dumb drunk. Look what you did to me. You killed me and now I’m stuck on earth as a ghost, and I don’t know where to go.
I never even got to get drunk. I was only eighteen when I died, and I still am.
I wonder can ghosts drink alcohol. That’s a stupid thought to ponder.
Well, what should I do now? Why isn’t there some kind of ghost guide around here to tell me what to do?
And now I’m hungry. Are ghosts supposed to be hungry? That’s weird. So now I’m a hungry, confused ghost.
What am I supposed to eat? Is there a such thing as ghost food? What if I can’t eat? What if I stay hungry forever? I’ll starve to death!
No, I’m already dead! I keep forgetting! Arrg . . .
Okay. I’ll just wait here. But it is getting cold. I’m shivering. Ghosts don’t get cold, do they? Why didn’t I read more about ghosts when I was alive?
Great, now I’m a hungry, confused, cold ghost.
I need to think. What do I know about ghosts? Think, think . . .
Ah ha! Ghosts don’t go to the afterlife until they complete their unfinished business on earth. Well let’s see . . . I never finished my English paper. I never finished cleaning my room. I didn’t finish that jigsaw puzzle. Somehow those don’t seem important to this situation.
Okay, forget that. Um . . . ghosts can fly. I think.
Nevermind. I’m afraid of heights.
Hey, I see someone. It is a woman dressed in white. An angel? She is looking right at me. She is motioning me over.
Ah, I do have a guide after all. What took her so long?
I glide over to her. Whoa, I’m gliding above the ground. Neat.
The angel grabs my hand and leads me into a white light.
I’m going to heaven after all! I hope there is food in heaven . . .
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