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    My Life of Living and Dying Essay

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    I died on a summer afternoon. I found out that there is a life after death for I had attended my own funeral. I floated in the back of the room as I watched my mother cry for the first time, I never seen her cry before in my shortened life. I watched my friends cry like a newborn baby, some tried to keep their composure but at the end there were tears running down the side of their cheeks. A drunk driver hit me with his pickup truck while I was riding my bike. I was only thirteen years old. I entered my parent’s room through the ceiling while my mom was on her knees praying by her beside one night. I’m so sorry this happened to you baby  she said “I wish this happened to me instead, I know it would’ve been tough on you but its even harder for me losing my baby.

    She continued on “I miss you so much already, I love you.  I wrapped my arms around her whispered in her ear “I love you too mom  as I continued to give her a kiss on the cheek. I saw a smile appear as she wiped the tears off her face. I was dead for a week when I would have started my first day of high school. One of the many things I will never get to experience.

    I thought I would go anyways especially since nobody has screamed that they’ve seen a ghost yet. I saw all my friends still in disbelief of the tragic events. I watched as they put their belongings in the lockers that were assigned to them. I saw Ashley post pictures on the inside of her locker, most of which included me. Her eyes water up, as the wound was still very fresh. As much as I disliked school this was the only time I want to go, in the flesh form of course. Nick was my best friend since we met in 1st grade when I first moved here. I followed him to the algebra class we were suppose to be in together.

    I saw him look at the seat I would’ve sat in. I was able to hear him mumble under his breath “I wish you were here right now bro.  I wanted to say something to him, anything at all that would let him know I was there. I hovered in front of his desk as I said in his face “Nick I’m right here buddy  as he continued to look through me. Nothing, I got no response from him. I repeated “Nick! Nick! Nick!  to only get a mesmerizing blank stare at the blackboard. I stuck my hand out to grab his pencil to write a note but my hand went right through the pencil and the desk.

    I went over to the blackboard just like in the movies were they would make the loud scratching noise by clawing at the board but it was silent. Why can’t Nick hear me though? I thought my mom heard me by the way she smiled after I said I love you to her. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe my mom was having a thought of all the memories we shared together that put the smile on her face. They can’t here me. They can’t see me. I have no way to interact with them at all. The only thing I could do is watch the life I didn’t get to experience with those that matter the most to me.

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    My Life of Living and Dying Essay. (2018, Aug 06). Retrieved from https://artscolumbia.org/my-life-of-living-and-dying-55521/

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