My public figure is Katherine. Most of you would call me a ghost, or perhaps an angel. I am you see, what most mortals 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 give dinner dress dance. I had barely entered the door of the sorority house when I started feeling ill. My headland started throbbing. The room started to swirl as I collapsed and everything went black.

I woke up lying on my back. I was on a table in a brightly lit elbow room. Several men and cleaning lady in hospital uniforms were putting away equipment and collecting worn out supplies. In spite of the shining visible light, the room seemed to be filled with an aeriform mist. The multitude all seemed to be moving in a dumb, remains, almost surreal fashion. They all seemed to be ignoring me.

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

The Dr. lead down a corridor, then through another doorway into a small wait room. My mother and Church Father were the only ones in the room.

I rushed ahead of the doctor, `` Mom ! Dad ! `` I rushed ahead to greet them, overjoyed to see fellow 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 medico. The look on their faces was one of anxiety and fear.

Without waiting for the enquiry that was written on their faces, the Dr. spoke.

'' Mr. and Mrs Johnson ? Please sit down. Your daughter suffered a John R. Major cerebral aneurisim. In layman 's terms, a weak section in one of the major artery in her brainpower swelled and burst. There was cipher we could do. Your girl is dead. ``

At those countersign my mother went white, then collapsed, sobbing, on my founder, who simply stared blankly, disbelievingly, into space.

My first thought were `` What kind of bad joke is this ? '' `` Why are you telling my parents I 'm dead when I am obviously standing right in straw man of them plain as the nose on your face ? ``

After a few minutes, my female parent composed herself enough to verbalize. `` I want to see her. I want to see my babe ''

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

My parents rose slowly and with a remains, robot like pass followed the doctor back through the double doors and down the hall from which I had just minutes before emerged. They turned into a room marked `` Emergency ICU - A ''

I recognized the room as the one from which I had emerged into the hall when I had first followed the physician. The way was vacant of checkup staff now. The equipment had all been removed or neatly stored against the walls.

In the center of the elbow room, under a bright command overhead light source, was a table on which lay a female form, covered with a thin white plane. I began to throw a very brainsick look in the pit of my tum. For the first time 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 Lapp prison term ? It must be a error. They will deplume down the sheet and it will be mortal else. It had to be someone else !

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

There I was. I was standing here, but I was also lying on the mesa. The me on the table was still dressed in the pink satin attire I had worn to the dance. I looked to be asleep. My brain raced, grasping for any fragment of hope. I had read about out-of-body experiences. How someone near Death felt themselves leave their own body. Usually there was a voice 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 all lifespan ahead. I was just getting started. I do n't hear any phonation. But that does n't matter. I just lie back down on the table, merge back into my body and inflame up. The doctor will be dumbfounded. Mom and dad will be overjoyed. I 'll spend a few Day in the hospital and go on with my life.

I did n't really cogitate about how one climbs back into ones own body. I just went over to the table and lay down. I closed my optic and placed my arms in the same property as the self on the table. I opened my eyes expecting to see the surprised reflection. But dad just continued to stare disbelievingly. Mom was stroking my pilus and sob, just as before.

Finally they turned away and the Doctor covered my face with the sheet.

'' No '' I screamed, `` I 'm not dead '' I flailed by arms, kicked my legs and screamed again. But all my efforts went neglected. What ever I was now, I was unseeable and inaudible to the worldly concern I knew. I really was dead.

By the time of my viewing I had still not fully accepted the estimate of being dead. The funeral house 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 base, passing through the crowd unnoticed. The elbow room where I lay was filled with flowers. My jewel casket lay on a low tabular array. It was glowing shining white with gold 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 bear. I also knew I had to appear. Slowly, I stepped up to the casket.

I gazed at the dream-like scene before me. The early me, the me that lay in the casket, was dressed as for her wedding party. Mom had promised me her bridal gown for my wedding party. Instead, she had given it to me for my burial. A white veil covered my face like a fine mist. A orotund nosegay of genus Calla lilies lay in my arms.

As I stared at the coffin, I began to focus on the peaceful face, my face, beneath the velum. My battleground of vision seemed to narrow, as if, without taking a step, I was moving closer and closer to the grimace within the casket. Suddenly, I was no longer standing before the casket, but lying inside ; looking up through the misty velum that covered my font. I felt the nerveless satin of my wedding garb turned burial nightgown. I smelled the fragrance of the lilies.

I sensed the sides of my casket close all around. I remembered seeing a repulsion movie once about a woman being locked into a coffin by some madman. The picture was of a coffin as a prison, locking her interior. But now that did n't look right at all. I felt as if I was in a safe, warm bed ; not a prison house, but instead a perfect tax shelter from the world.

I became aware of people passing by. Some paused but a moment then went on. Others stood or kneeled before the jewel casket, seemingly lost in their thought process. I could hear whispered prayers. While I could not see the words somehow I knew the countersign were unimportant. The love they represented seemed to contain form as a shimmering light that grew in intensity with each offered prayer. I felt wave upon moving ridge of the cool flatware Light Within surrounding me, flowing over me, filling me. I felt as if I was losing myself, willingly, in the overpowering radiance. I felt both a growing high spirits and a sentiency of add heartsease greater 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 mountain had crushed down on my soul. I opened my eyes and the light was gone. I was standing in the visitation way of the funeral dwelling. All my Friend and family were gone. The funeral director was fastening the latches on my now closed casket.

This morning I rode in the hearse as they carried me to church. I watched as they placed my casket on the bier at the presence and placed the flowers all around. All the guest have arrived. The Christian church is packed. I never realized how many mass cared about me.

The service is just beginning but already I see a shaft of the ethereal luminance surrounding my coffin. It is already unattackable and brighter 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 befall here. In a short while the service will be over. They will conduct me, that other me in the casket, back to the hearse. They will drive me to the cemetery, say a few appropriate Holy Writ, and then they will let down me into the grave accent that even now is open and waiting.

If I stay I fear the blackness will come crashing down as they shovel the Earth over me. I feel the luminousness reaching out. I sense its peace. Its time for me to go .