My public figure is Katherine. Most of you would send for me a specter, or perhaps an angel. I am you see, what nigh somebody call `` dead ''. 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 spring schematic dance. I had barely entered the door of the sorority theatre when I started feeling ill. My principal started throbbing. The room started to whirlpool as I collapsed and everything went black.

I woke up lying on my cover. I was on a table in a brightly lit room. respective men and womanhood in hospital uniforms were putting away equipment and collecting spent supplies. In venom of the brightly light, the elbow room seemed to be filled with an ethereal mist. The people all seemed to be moving in a dull, stiff, almost surreal style. They all seemed to be ignoring me.

I sat up, climbed off the table, and followed one of the doctors ( I assumed they were doctors ) out of the room through a set of double door. I do n't really have sex why I did this. It just seemed the affair to do. Somehow I felt that there was an result waiting for me if I followed.

The medico lead down a corridor, then through another room access into a lowly waiting room. My mother and Father were the only I in the room.

I rushed ahead of the doctor, `` Mom ! Dad ! `` I rushed ahead to greet them, overjoyed to see familiar 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 spirit on their faces was one of disquiet and fear.

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

'' Mr. and Mrs Dr. Johnson ? Please sit down. Your girl suffered a major cerebral aneurisim. In layperson 's terms, a weak segment in one of the major arteries in her brain swelled and burst. There was nothing we could do. Your girl is perfectly. ``

At those lyric my mother went white, then collapsed, sobbing, on my founding father, who simply stared blankly, disbelievingly, into space.

My first thoughts were `` What kind of bad antic is this ? '' `` Why are you telling my parents I 'm dead when I am obviously standing right in front of them plain as the nozzle on your face ? ``

After a few transactions, my female parent composed herself enough to speak. `` I want to see her. I want to see my sister ''

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

My parents rose slowly and with a stiff, robot like walk followed the doctor back through the stunt man room access and down the vestibule from which I had just arcminute before emerged. They turned into a room marked `` pinch ICU - A ''

I recognized the elbow room as the one from which I had emerged into the anteroom when I had first followed the medico. The room was vacant of medical stave now. The equipment had all been removed or neatly stored against the walls.

In the center of the room, under a undimmed viewgraph Christ Within, was a table on which lay a female form, covered with a flimsy snowy sheet. I began to have a very sickish feeling in the pit of my tummy. For the starting time clip the thought entered my mind that maybe this was no joke.

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

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

There I was. I was standing here, but I was also lying on the board. The me on the board was still dressed in the pink satin clothes I had worn to the dance. I looked to be asleep. My mind raced, grasping for any shard of hope. I had read about out-of-body experiences. How someone near death felt themselves leave their own body. Usually there was a vocalization 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 entirely liveliness ahead. I was just getting started. I do n't hear any representative. But that does n't count. I just lie back down on the board, merge back into my dead body and fire up up. The doctor will be dumbfounded. Mom and dad will be overjoyed. I 'll pass a few days in the hospital and go on with my life.

I did n't really call up about how one climbs back into one own eubstance. I just went over to the mesa and lay down. I closed my eye and placed my arms in the like berth as the ego on the table. I opened my oculus expecting to see the surprised expressions. But dad just continued to stare disbelievingly. Mom was stroking my hair and sob, just as before.

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

'' No '' I screamed, `` I 'm not drained '' I flailed by weapons system, kicked my peg and screamed again. But all my feat went unheeded. What ever I was now, I was invisible and unhearable to the world I knew. I really was dead.

By the sentence of my wake I had still not fully accepted the mind of being absolutely. The funeral menage sent a car for mom and dad. I really did n't like the thought of being on display, but I was peculiar 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 crowd unnoticed. The elbow room where I lay was filled with bloom. My jewel casket lay on a low board. It was glowing shining white with gold handle and trim. The lid was open.

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

I gazed at the dream-like scene before me. The former me, the me that lay in the jewel casket, was dressed as for her marriage ceremony. Mom had promised me her bridal gown for my wedding. Instead, she had given it to me for my burying. A livid veil covered my boldness like a fine mist. A enceinte posy of calla lilies lay in my arms.

As I stared at the casket, I began to centre on the peaceful typeface, my face, beneath the head covering. My field of vision seemed to specialise, as if, without taking a step, I was moving closer and closemouthed to the nerve within the casket. Suddenly, I was no longer standing before the casket, but lying inside ; looking up through the hazy veil that covered my aspect. I felt the cool off satin of my wedding garb turned burial gown. I smelled the fragrance of the lilies.

I sensed the side of my jewel casket close all around. I remembered seeing a revulsion movie once about a woman being locked into a coffin by some madman. The image 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, but instead a utter protection from the world.

I became aware of masses passing by. Some paused but a moment then went on. Others stood or kneeled before the casket, seemingly lost in their thoughts. I could get wind whispered entreaty. While I could not sympathise the words somehow I knew the words were insignificant. The love they represented seemed to look at figure as a shimmering Light that grew in intensity with each offered supplicant. 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 overpowering shine. I felt both a growing elation and a signified of total serenity with child than anything I had known. I felt myself floating, flying, lifted ever higher, deeper into the light.

Then all went black. I felt as if a great deal had crushed down on my somebody. I opened my centre and the light was gone. I was standing in the visitation way of the funeral home. All my booster and family were gone. The funeral director was fastening the latches on my now closed casket.

This sunrise I rode in the hearse as they carried me to church. I watched as they placed my jewel casket on the bier at the movement and placed the peak all around. All the node have arrived. The church is packed. I never realized how many citizenry cared about me.

The service is just beginning but already I see a shaft of the ethereal light surrounding my casket. It is already stronger and promising 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 yielding to it and I will be swept away to somewhere wonderful beyond imagining.

I know what will materialise here. In a trivial while the service will be over. They will behave me, that other me in the jewel casket, back to the hearse. They will drive me to the burying ground, say a few appropriate speech, and then they will frown me into the grave that even now is surface and waiting.

If I stay I fear the blackness will derive crashing down as they shovel the worldly concern over me. I feel the light reaching out. I sense its peace. Its time for me to go .