Coffin

The coffin lowered slowly into the dark hole. A few minutes later shovels were picking up loose dirt and throwing down, covereing her. I watched them shovel away. Then, in a split second, something changed.

My eyes began to turn red, I clenched my fists, "NO!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. The diggers looked at me, as if I were insane. "No, no, NO!" I yelled. Everyone was looking at me, wondering what I was doing.

I marched over to one of the diggers and pushed him out of the way.

"What the hell is your problem?!" I heard him say, but his voice was distant to my ears. I picked up the shovel he'd thrown to the ground, and then I jumped down into the hole. I let out a gasp. I had landed on my foot weird and now my ankle hurt like hell.

"Carla!" My mom screeched, stomping over to the hole, "Get out!"

"No!" I began shoveling away the dirt they had dumped in here already.

"Carla..." I heard my father say.

"Go away! All of you, just go away!"

"Carla... Carla... Carla..." I heard about ten million voices say. But, only one mattered; there was only one I heard.

"Carla?" Jaime whispered to me.

"J-Jaime?" I looked up to see my little brother standing in front of me. "Jaime, you're dead. So...but...how..."

"I'm a ghost, silly." He laughs.

"G-ghost?"

"Well, I'm not a zombie am I?"

I paused, then jumped at him, gathering him in a huge hug.

"Oh, Jaime. I'm sorry! I'm really really really incredibly super sorry. It's all my fault, Jaime, all my fault!"

"Carla, it's alright. Everyone makes mistakes."

"But, my stupid mistake killed you, Jaime! That's inexcusable."

"Not to me, you're excused, Carla. I forgive you."

"Well, I don't!" I sobbed.

"What's wrong with her?" I hear whispers from above.

"I think she see's Jaime," My father whispers.

"What? You mean like a ghost or something?" Another voice asks.

"Yes." My father speaks plainly.

"The girl's mental!" My mother cries, "There's no such thing as ghosts."

"You need to get her help, Robbie." The preacher says to him.

"Time will heal her." He says.

"No, it won't!" My mother cries again, "I'm sending her to a mental hospital, Robbie. There's something seriously wrong with our daughter."

"Do you want to lose both our children then?!" He suddenly says angry. My father never gets angry.

"Do you want our daugher to go insane?!"

"She already is insane." Someone mutters.

I look up. My mother and father are staring at me, tears in their eyes.

---------------------------------------------------

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

"WAKE UP, CARLA!"

"Ugh." I groan and roll out of bed. I had the dream again.

It wasn't exactly a dream, but a memory, that replayed in my head a million times over every night. It was a memory of my little brother's funeral, the one I caused. I'm in here because of that memory, because I went insane. Apparently, talking to ghosts isn't normal. So, my mother, seemingly to eager to get rid of her mental daughter, sent me to this hospital. I'd rather call it a prison camp. The monitered how we dressed, and the cafeteria food was the crappiest s**t ever. And that's coming from the girl who ate her uncles "Jacl Rabbit" Stew, "fresh from the road".

I shrugged on my navy blue pants and generic white t-shirt, grabbed my bag, and began yet another, boring, lifeless day in hell.

Reviews

[Derek S.Keck]

This was really amazing, the struggling with the death sort of reminded me of the Tell Tale Heart, with that guilt conflict your story presents. I like that it wasn't even about the brothers forgiveness, the conflict was within herself, because she realized it was going to be the albatross around her neck that she could never shake off or forget. You have a gift for story telling! Awesome write.

[Kiri Nells]

Great story! Keep me updated. (internal conflict is always the best, especially when it's causing external conflict) :) Great job!

[Also known as Clare.]

Thank you:)