While doomscrolling on Facebook in the early hours of today, I came across a question that asked, “What is after death?”
This question threw me into deep thought and brought back frightening memories I had long tried to bury. In my opinion, I believe the dead are still amongst us. There’s a supernatural story that supports this belief, but most people don’t believe in spirituality or things that go beyond the physical realm.
Dreams
In 2018, I moved in with an aunt who lived in a different state from where I grew up. My parents made the decision because the university I was to attend was in that state. A few days after moving in, I had the most frightening nightmare. In that dream, I attended a funeral service. When it was time to take the body to the cemetery, I led the procession, holding the portrait of the deceased.
We were all in mourning. until I saw the very person who was supposed to be laid to rest walking toward us with a frown on her face. I looked down at the portrait in my hands and back at the approaching woman to confirm I wasn’t hallucinating. It was the same person. She didn’t look at me, nor did she seem concerned about what was happening. She walked past, and a chilly wind grazed my skin, raising goosebumps and making me sick to my stomach.
We got to the cemetery. The grave had been dug, and the coffin placed in it. Then she returned. I thought she was going to climb in and merge with her body, but she simply walked past again, this time into a nearby bush, chatting away with someone else. She seemed so alive. I wanted to move closer, to get answers to the haunting questions in my mind, but I was too scared. I feared that if I approached her, I might lose myself too.
I woke up frightened but told myself, “It’s just another stupid nightmare.”
Months went by, and I gradually got more familiar with my new environment. One day, my aunt sent me to one of the local markets. While navigating through the aisles, I caught sight of a familiar face. She looked happy. Her eyes were bright. Her skin was a little pale, and her hair slightly disheveled, but she wore nice clothes. I started searching my mind, trying to place where I knew her from.
After a moment, it hit me. She was a classmate from secondary school.
The greater shock? We had received news from the principal that she died a few days before graduation in a ghastly motor accident.
I moved to a corner and stared to be sure. I couldn’t have been more convinced - it was her. Suddenly, her eyes met mine, and chills ran down my spine. Goosebumps spread across my skin. I saw her jaw clench. She instantly wore a frown. In that same moment, she grabbed her goods from the seller, and before I could gather myself, she had vanished into the crowd.
I didn’t follow her, but to this day, I try to convince myself that I didn’t see Nessa’s ghost. “Maybe she had a twin, and her parents moved to the same state as me,” I told myself.
But deep down, I know the dead are amongst us. They just move far away from where their loved ones can find them - maybe to avoid frightening them, or maybe for another supernatural reason that we’ve yet to understand.
So, what comes after death?
Silence. Maybe peace. Less suffering. More hiding.
