My love is undying
A quick one for a little amusement.
Enjoy.
"Emily," I called softly out to her in the night. She was walking quickly towards her apartment building and I was standing on the opposite corner watching her long legs and flared hips rapidly striding down the footpath. She hadn't heard me.
"Emily!" I shouted out loudly. Her head didn't even turn. She had to have heard me. There was no-one else on the streets at this time of night. In fact I didn't know why she was out and about. Maybe she had been somewhere and had decided to walk home. I looked to the left and right before quickly running across the road to catch up with her. I matched her stride and still she didn't turn her head to look at me. I reached out a hand.
I was suddenly in the middle of the street and the car was rushing at me. The headlights were so bright and the noise of the brake squealing and the tyres trying to grip on the slippery road. It was raining and I could feel the water dripping down on me as I lay on the road. Emily was there. Kneeling beside me and telling me to hold on.
Why was Mumma crying and Dad, too? Even my bratty little sister was crying and Dad was holding her close so that her head was tightly into his chest. Emily was sitting on the bench and her shoulders were heaving even as the man in the white long coat patted her shoulder and shook his head sadly. Was there something wrong with her? I ran over to kneel at her feet. Her tears almost splashed on my face as I tried to get my head below hers and make her look at me. Instead she lifted her arse off the bench and began to walk off down the corridor of wherever this place was. I watched her go. Why didn't she stop and see me?
I turned to my parents. They looked through me as they placed arms around each other and followed slowly after the tall dark haired girl. No-one said anything and no-one looked me in the eye. I fell in behind them. Perhaps someone would tell me what was so wrong soon.
I was dead? How can I be dead?
Yet I had watched my family, Emily and her family and heaps of my friends and co-workers standing in the crematorium and the pastor or whatever he was told them about my short life and how I would be missed. I saw the redwood box and I walked over to it and looked at the body lying in the white plush surrounds. It was my face. I tried to lift the rest of the lid. I had to let me out! I couldn't touch it. My hand just slipped through it! I turned around and waved and shouted at the gathered group. "I am not dead!" I yelled, "I am right here!"