Suicidal in Heaven – A Journey of Choices

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Under the podium there’s a room almost as big as the auditorium. By the time I get there, my casket’s already open and it no longer contains my body. Someone takes my clothes off and I automatically feel ashamed. I feel so ashamed I forget what someone did to me earlier, my lifeless body at the mercy of an unknown person. But it’s different here, because I’m not alone. While an employee took my clothes off, another one was dismantling the coffin. Also, they seem professionals. The way they handle my body and the coffin isn’t the way my parents would, but certainly there’s a level of respect. They’re aggressive, but don’t seem angry about having to do what they’re doing.

After getting me naked, the employee helps the other to dismantle the coffin, not an easy task, which takes a considerable amount of time. But then, they finish. They put all the pieces in a giant box with my name in it, my parents’ names and a number. One of the employees takes the box away and the other pushes my body through a long and leaning corridor. The coffin it’s of no concern to me, so I go with the body. I also feel forced to do it, ’cause again I feel tied to it. I’m concerned with what’s about to happen, ’cause the last time I felt tied to my body, I saw it (that is, myself) being raped.

Worried, I sit on my body, almost like a watchdog. I take a defensive attitude and try to transpose the barrier that separates the world of the living and the world of the dead. If someone tries something inappropriate, I’ll show that there is life after death, not just because he’ll see a ghost and objects moving, but I’ll also making his passage through this world a bit shorter thanks to a heart attack.

When we get to the end of the corridor, I realize we’re somewhere in the funeral home. It’s similar to the chapel and the auditorium, but not as quite as tidy. Based on the amount of employees I assume it’s a restricted area, which explains the lack of tidiness. The employee continues to push the stretcher with my body, and I keep trying to break the barrier which can’t be broken. A door opens and I notice the temperature of this room is lower than the others. The first hint is the bluish light, and I also can see the cold air coming out from the employee’s nose. The hot air released from the body, meeting the cold air, condenses itself and creates the fumes.

The truth is dull, I liked the version I created when I as a kid best: we were, at some level, related to dragons. On cold days, their heat warmed us, but it was too hot, and we had to exhale the excess of heat though our mouths, the same way they expelled fire. Had I never discovered there was other kinds of dragons, not only the ones who spit fire, maybe I would have chosen to ignore the truth to believe in mine. But I digress…

In the cold room, the employee stands in front of a drawer and I don’t even have to think about what’s going to happen. I see the number of the drawer it’s the same that was in that there was in the box where my coffin had been stored. The employee opens the drawer and puts my body in there. But I go with it. I feel now I’m free, that I could travel far away, but I don’t. I stay there, in the dark, sitting on what used to be me. It felt wrong to abandon that which used to be me. It felt wrong to leave myself in a dark, cold place. I’m not sure how much time goes by.

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