Floating
You know, they always said that when you died, there would be a bright light, and your whole life was suppose to flash before your eyes. All I saw was red, then…nothing. I saw my blood splatter the wall, then everything was dark. There was no light. There were no memories.
They said that Heaven was to glorious for words, while Hell, to heinous. Once dead, your soul would go to one of them. And yet here I was, floating in this nothingness. I lifted my arm, and reached out. Nothing. There was nothing to touch, and nothing to see. Was this what happened to the dead? An eternity of floating in this dark nothingness all alone?
I kicked my feet out, but neither fell nor flipped. I was simply suspended in the dark. I tried to walk, to run but my feet never connected with the ground. I curled up, dropping my head on my knees.
I suddenly remembered, last year. I went into a haunted house at a carnival. It had the same darkness. But back then, I had a hand to hold. Now I’m all alone. There’s no longer a hand to hold.