I left the house with hardly a glance at my mother, throwing a quick goodbye at her and disappearing into the night, not considering whether or not we would ever see each other again. Not knowing the foolish choice someone would make, but assuming I would return safely home.
I was on my way home. My bike hummed down the long, straight road at a good clip, and I thought not of the danger surrounding me at every moment. Suddenly it hit me, and I was sent flying through the air. I landed 300 meters away; my neck and back broke instantly.
I died today.
How strange it is staring up through glossy eyes as the rescue crew swirls around, utilizing their best efforts to try and revive my lifeless body, Groping at my wrist trying to find the absent pulse.
“Get the diffribulator!”
“All Clear!” Electricity courses through my body and I bounce as if I am on a trampoline. The rescue crews quickly realize that their efforts are to no avail and allow the coroner to drape a blanket over my still form.
I am placed in a body bag and carried to a vehicle for a trip to the hospital. I feel myself being wheeled down a long corridor, then into a chilled room filled with other bodies in a similar condition to mine. The room is deathly quiet, save the fan blowing cold air.
“Esther, you there?”
“Yes Nicholas, what is it?”
“Someone new is here dear, I just heard him being brought in.”
“I do hope he has found his Savior,” I hear the woman reply.
“Well let us ask him.”
“Hello?”
“Yes?” I reply softly.
“What unfortunate even brought you here?”
“I was run down by a car while biking home,” I reply.
“Oh, how terrible!” it is Nicholas, “what is your name?”
“Caleb”
“Do you know God, Caleb?”
“Yes”
“And is he your Savior?”
“Yes, but oh how I wish I had known him longer!” “It was but a few hours before the accident that I found him, I long to have some way to console my parents and reveal to them that I am safe with my Maker!”
I feel myself being wheeled away. Moments later I am placed on a cold metal table and examined by medical specialists trying to determine how I died. Hours later I peer up into the loving eyes’ of my parents, watching in utter agony as they manage to gasp, “That’s him.”
The next day I lay in a beautiful, wooden coffin, watching as hundreds of people come and take one final look at me. The sweet aroma of flowers surrounds me, but none seem to notice. My heart is screaming with pain as I watch my friends, teachers, relatives, and classmates walk by like crying zombies. Their sorrow evident on their faces, as they gaze at my lifeless body, covered in makeup, so familiar, yet so different.
Dead.




Again the next day, before my funeral service, I am placed on display for all to view and remember. Some come for a second, final look. My family and closest friends take on last loving look at my lifeless body before I am locked up and wheeled away.
I can feel myself being lifted out of the hearse and carried toward my final resting place. The casket shaking as the pallbearers struggle to hold back their sobs. I can hear people, all around, crying, lost in a world of hurt. I feel myself being slowly lowered into the ground under the watchful eyes of loving family and friends. It feels so strange laying in this still dark box. The chill from the soil creeps through the stale air and into my bones. My soul is at rest in the glorious heavens with my wonderful Maker but my body is left alone to decay. Memory of me will live on but …
I am dead. Goodbye.