Death

I knew I was dead. I was not quite sure how or why, I just knew. I had all my wits about me; yet I was dead. I tried to sense where I was. I took a deep breath but could only smell air; thick and suffocating. Nothing felt as it had felt before. Death carried with it an emptiness of my soul; a feeling that there was no depth to my being. 


I had never heard of someone dead going mad, but madness was overtaking me. I wanted to scream but nothing came out. God help me! I held my head within my hands and squeezed as hard as I could. Think, think! No matter how much pressure I put upon my head or how hard I begged I could not remember what had happened. The screams. Were they mine? Whose screams pierced my memories and sounded so horrid that I could not forget hearing them? 


It was then I awoke to find myself alone in a house with no memory of death.