Life after Death

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I wrenched from my bed, with the burning feeling of an uncomfortable sensation. My breath lost, trying to grasp the motion of inhaling and exhaling but the air was too heavy and dry. Looking around my room, empty, with nothing but a light breeze tickling my flesh. My clothes soaked in sweat and this unexpected wave of emotion crippling my ability to move. I lay back down but not dare close my eyes, only to be startled by distant whispers and the innocent sound of a child bonding with parent. Could this be possible? No, it cannot be! My parents died a year ago. You fool, it’s your silly mind playing games with your conscience, go back to sleep.

A pressing warmth urged me to get out of bed in search of the distant truth. As i exit my room, my heart beat drums to the sound of my footsteps leading me to my brothers room. Standing alone, on the other side, tall and dark, I can smell some kind of weird life after death. I slowly open the door to an image beyond my comprehension, ‘my dead mother holding my baby brother’. That very minute I fall on bended knee and the deathly hollow of her spirit creeps under my skin. This strange candle of darkness erases any discomfort or fear. How is this happening? There I am standing close to my mother again. To have the chance to feel her soft, gentle touch. The possibility to smell her sweet blossoming scent, oh how good that was.

My mother slowly begins to lay my brother back into his withered cot, placing my brothers favourite bear under his small, precious arm and covering his fragile, infant body with a knitted blanket. She then looks to me with a depth of empathy and sorrow. Strangely, her look comforts my misery and the void I feel everyday. My mother then proceeds to hum my dearest childhood nursery rhyme and at that very moment things feel better and safer. She then ruffles my hair and places a fairy like kiss on my cheeks.

As the sun starts to shine over the darkness, my mother drifts into the distant horizon, like a snowflake floating over the peak of a snowy mountain. Right back to that very morning, I remember the warm truth, that life does live after death, just open your heart, believe and remember.

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