All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
I knew she was dead. I knew from the awkward position of her head. The way her eyes were wide and unseeing, the way they stared at nothing, but seemed to see everything.
Yet still, I had to know for sure. Like maybe if I just checked, I would feel her pulse, see color rush to her checks, and watch her stand back up. Maybe her black hair that rested on her chest would rise and fall with her breath again.
I couldn’t check. I couldn’t check because that dead body was mine. I was looking down at my own body.
I wasn’t worried. Why should I? I was dead, there was nothing left to be worried about. I actually felt calmer than I felt in a long time. Maybe being dead was good.
I continued to stare at myself. My neck looked like it was broken in some places. My thigh was bent roughly at one point.
How did I die? Did I fall? Did I get attacked? I had no clue. I tried to remember my name, but failed.
I was still calm. Names only matter to the living. Names just build barriers. I paused for a second and considered the thought that rushed into my mind uninvited.
I stared at my body for a long time. The longer I stared the less interested I grew with the body.
Wait. Who is on the ground? She looks like she fell from somewhere high. She looks like someone I know. Look at her thigh, bent so roughly. She has pretty black hair resting on her chest.
I tilted my head to get a better look at the body. The body was there for as long as I remembered. There was nothing before the body. Maybe there was nothing after the body.
Then I turned and walked away. I didn’t want to see the body anymore. The body wouldn’t help me at all.
How would I know? She wasn’t any one I knew.
Where am I?
Who am I?
What am I?
“You are nothing.” A man, tall with a long black over coat draping over him, said as he stepped in front of me. His face was hidden in the shadows of things that weren’t there. “As I am and every other dead being is nothing.”
“Nothing, but a breeze.” Then the man seemed to just fade away into the background.
I wasn’t even sure he was ever there. I stared blankly at where I thought he had been, but concluded that he never was there at all.
I was standing on the side walk. People were walking right through me. This did not surprise me in the least bit.
I must be a ghost. I was a shadow of my former self, waiting for the afterlife.
But who was I before? Maybe I was no one. Maybe I was nothing. Maybe I was nothing but a breeze.
I shook my head, if I had a head. Maybe I just thought I had a head. Maybe I was just dreaming. Do ghost have dreams?
“How would a breeze have dreams?” The strange man was back. His face was still hidden and his outline seemed to be nonexistent, like it was just fading into the world behind him.
I didn’t answer his question.
More people walked through me. They just walked through me like I was nothing.
Because I was nothing. Maybe I always was nothing. Wasn’t there a body though?
A body? There never was a body.