My name is Katherine. to the highest degree of you would promise me a ghost, or perhaps an angel. I am you see, what most mortals call `` all in ''. In fact, today is my funeral. I had n't really planned on dying. I 'm only 21 years old. I had just returned from the bound schematic terpsichore. I had barely entered the threshold of the sorority house when I started feeling ill. My head started throbbing. The room started to purl as I collapsed and everything went black.

I woke up lying on my back. I was on a board in a brightly lit way. several men and women in hospital uniforms were putting away equipment and collecting spent supplies. In spite of the undimmed light, the room seemed to be filled with an ethereal mist. The multitude all seemed to be moving in a slack, cadaver, almost surreal style. They all seemed to be ignoring me.

I sat up, climbed off the table, and followed one of the Dr. ( I assumed they were physician ) out of the way through a set of double doorway. I do n't really know why I did this. It just seemed the thing to do. Somehow I felt that there was an solution waiting for me if I followed.

The Doctor lead down a corridor, then through another threshold into a small waiting room. My female parent and sire were the sole ones in the room.

I rushed ahead of the doctor, `` Mom ! Dad ! `` I rushed ahead to recognize them, overjoyed to see intimate faces. `` What are you doing here ? What 's happened ? Where are we ? ``

They looked right through me as if I was n't even there. Instead, they turned to the doctor. The looking on their faces was one of anxiousness and fear.

Without waiting for the dubiousness that was written on their faces, the doctor spoke.

'' Mr. and Mrs. President Lyndon Johnson ? Please sit down. Your daughter suffered a major cerebral aneurisim. In layman 's term, a weak subdivision in one of the John Roy Major arterial blood vessel in her brain swelled and burst. There was nothing we could do. Your daughter is beat. ``

At those words my female parent went Andrew D. White, then collapsed, sobbing, on my don, who simply stared blankly, disbelievingly, into space.

My first thoughts were `` What sort of bad caper is this ? '' `` Why are you telling my parents I 'm stagnant when I am obviously standing right in strawman of them plain as the nozzle on your cheek ? ``

After a few second, my mother composed herself enough to speak. `` I want to see her. I want to see my baby ''

'' Certainly '' said the Doctor `` If you feel you are up to it, I will take you to her. ``

My parents rose slowly and with a corpse, robot like walk of life followed the Doctor back through the double door and down the residence hall from which I had just minute before emerged. They turned into a way marked `` emergency ICU - A ''

I recognized the room as the one from which I had emerged into the residence when I had first followed the MD. The room was vacant of medical exam staff now. The equipment had all been removed or neatly stored against the walls.

In the substance of the way, under a bright operating expense light, was a tabular array on which lay a female person frame, covered with a thin Edward White sheet. I began to accept a very fed up feeling in the pit of my stomach. For the first time the sentiment entered my psyche that maybe this was no joke.

But it had to be. How could I be lying there covered with a sail and standing here watching at the Saami time ? It must be a misunderstanding. They will pull down the sheet and it will be someone else. It had to be someone else !

My parents followed the medico, hesitatingly, to the table. Gently, the medico folded down the sheet.

There I was. I was standing here, but I was also lying on the table. The me on the table was still dressed in the pinko satin apparel I had worn to the saltation. I looked to be asleep. My mind raced, grasping for any fragment of hope. I had read about out-of-body experiences. How someone near expiry felt themselves leave their own body. Usually there was a spokesperson telling them to go back because they had more to do with their life. I was only twenty-one. I certainly had more to do. I had almost a wholly life-time ahead. I was just getting started. I do n't hear any voice. But that does n't matter. I just lie back down on the table, unite back into my soundbox and wake up. The Doctor will be dumbfounded. Mom and dad will be overjoyed. I 'll spend a few days in the hospital and go on with my life.

I did n't really consider about how one climbs back into single own consistency. I just went over to the table and lay down. I closed my eyes and placed my arms in the same billet as the self on the table. I opened my middle expecting to see the surprised construction. But dad just continued to stare disbelievingly. Mom was stroking my tomentum and sobbing, just as before.

Finally they turned away and the doctor covered my side with the sheet.

'' No '' I screamed, `` I 'm not abruptly '' I flailed by arms, kicked my legs and screamed again. But all my crusade went ignored. What ever I was now, I was invisible and unhearable to the world I knew. I really was dead.

By the time of my Wake Island I had still not fully accepted the idea of being deadened. The funeral home sent a car for mom and dad. I really did n't like the thought of being on video display, but I was curious to see what they had done with me.

A crowd had already gathered when we arrived. I followed my parents into the home, passing through the crew unnoticed. The room where I lay was filled with peak. My jewel casket lay on a low table. It was glowing shining bloodless with Au handles and trim. The lid was open.

I hesitated once again. I knew that what I would see would only add to the weight of a reality I did not yet want to accept. I also knew I had to look. Slowly, I stepped up to the casket.

I gazed at the dream-like scene before me. The other me, the me that lay in the jewel casket, was dressed as for her wedding. Mom had promised me her bridal gown for my wedding. Instead, she had given it to me for my interment. A white veil covered my font like a fine mist. A great bouquet of genus Calla lilies lay in my arms.

As I stared at the casket, I began to focus on the peaceable typeface, my human face, beneath the veil. My theatre of vision seemed to narrow, as if, without taking a gradation, I was moving closer and tight to the face within the coffin. Suddenly, I was no longer standing before the coffin, but lying inside ; looking up through the foggy veil that covered my face. I felt the chill satin of my wedding party dress turned burial gown. I smelled the fragrance of the lilies.

I sensed the sides of my jewel casket close all around. I remembered seeing a horror picture once about a fair sex being locked into a casket by some madman. The range was of a casket as a prison, locking her inside. But now that did n't seem right at all. I felt as if I was in a safe, warm bed ; not a prison house, but instead a sodding tax shelter from the world.

I became aware of people passing by. Some paused but a bit then went on. Others stood or kneeled before the jewel casket, seemingly lost in their thoughts. I could hear whispered prayers. While I could not understand the words somehow I knew the Scripture were insignificant. The love life they represented seemed to submit variety as a shimmering brightness level that grew in intensity with each offered prayer. I felt wave upon wave of the cool ash grey Light surrounding me, flowing over me, filling me. I felt as if I was losing myself, willingly, in the overpower radiance. I felt both a growing elation and a gumption of number peace greater than anything I had known. I felt myself floating, flying, lifted ever high-pitched, deeper into the light.

Then all went black. I felt as if a mount had crushed down on my soul. I opened my eyes and the lighter was gone. I was standing in the tribulation room of the funeral home. All my friends and family were gone. The funeral conductor was fastening the latch on my now closed casket.

This dawning I rode in the hearse as they carried me to church. I watched as they placed my casket on the bier at the front man and placed the flowers all around. All the client have arrived. The church is packed. I never realized how many people cared about me.

The service is just beginning but already I see a shaft of the ethereal luminance surrounding my casket. It is already unassailable and brilliant than at my Wake. I suppose that is because everyone is praying together. I know that all I have to do is step into the light and surrender to it and I will be swept away to somewhere tremendous beyond imagining.

I know what will pass off here. In a little while the inspection and repair will be over. They will carry me, that other me in the casket, back to the hearse. They will drive me to the graveyard, say a few appropriate words, and then they will frown me into the grave that even now is undetermined and waiting.

If I stay I fear the inkiness will come crashing down as they shovel the worldly concern over me. I feel the luminosity reaching out. I sense its peace. Its clip for me to go .