Do you believe in life after death?

A stark chill ran up her bare arms as she knelt beside the gravestone, touching the dewy grass. Her heart pounding painfully against her ribs, felt almost as if it were trying to explode forth into another form. The old man’s words whispered still in her ears as she lightly skimmed the marble with her fingers. Softly she said the name on the gravesite, tears clouding her cobalt eyes: Micah.

Suppose you were to die tonight?

It had always been a joke between the two. What would you do if you knew this was the last night you would walk the earth…what would you give to be alive again? What would you sacrifice to breath once more? They had spent hours endlessly discussing the morbid ideology in the comfort of her mother’s den. Micah had always sworn he would find a way back from that unknown to her. Their love, he swore, would never die.

She plunged her hands into the wet soil, digging carelessly, scattering dirt behind her as she began to lose herself in the dream once more. She steadied her hands once more, feeling a shudder creep through her spine. Since his death, she had felt him calling to her…screaming as though he had been trapped within the coffin that separated the two. Micah had been sure he would die before her, but he had promised and she knew her dreams…the voices…his voice would only be soothed if once more she looked on his lithe form. She had to be sure he was dead, to make sure he wasn’t trapped alive.
A streak of lightning played through the sky, illuminating the old graveyard that her family had buried him within. The Louisiana soil was soft and muddy from the recent rains; it would give up its secrets easily if she only kept digging. A crack of thunder made her lift her head to the threatening skies even as a movement behind her made her stop in her digging.
“What do we have here?” a masculine voice cooed from behind her.

Her mind raged at the interruption. How dare someone interfere with her search for answers, her very need for sanity? She moved to her feet, straightening herself before she turned to address the man.

“I’m…”she began her eyes searching in the darkness for the speaker.

“Digging without a shovel.”

There was a thud into the soft soil behind her. She whirled around once more looking in vain for the man who was delaying her. Laying in the grass closest to where she had been toiling, lay a large shovel.

“Take you damn near all night if you use your hands.” Again the voice moved to her right this time, but once more she wasted time peering through the darkness.

“Well aren’t you going to dig?” Her left this time. How could the man move so quickly, especially with no sign of movement? Every fiber of her screamed that something was wrong. Something was not right here. Yet she ignored her body’s warnings, moving instead to pick up the shovel. She drove it deep into the earth, hearing the tell tale snap of the sod roots, and placed her foot on top of it. Standing hard up on the shovel, she drove it deeper, hauling load after load of black damp soil from the grave.

Thunk.

She nearly fainted in shock as she finally reached the coffin’s depth. She tossed the shovel up onto the ground and knelt, digging now with her fingers into the soft sides. She flung handfuls up at a time until finally she could flip the latches that held the lid in place. She climbed carefully out of the grave and reached in with the flat of the shovel, popping open the top of the coffin, lifting it reverently. Darkness met her eyes, too deep for her to just peer in. Cursing quietly she leaned further in throwing back the lid in her impatience.

Once more lightning played through the sky as she looked down into the coffin a pain stricken look on her face. There, laid out in perfect porcelain death was her visage. Her black ringlets framed her face, her makeup done perfectly, even her cobalt prom dress fit shown in the lightning.

She backpedaled from the open grave, her eyes widening in shock and fear. Something cold wrapped itself around her torso, holding her tightly even as she began to thrash and scream.

“Easy. It’ll be okay. It’s not what you think.” The same voice whispered in her ears. She turned her head slightly, recognition playing across her face.

“Mi-Micah?” she stammered relaxing into the embrace.

“What would you give, my love, to never know pain, to never have cause to fear death? You gave me yourself.”