Writing Prompts

#5

  Prompt: Write about a funeral from the dead person point of view.

The sound of crying and sad music echoed in the air around me. White rose I tell them I’m not dead I’m not dead but they don’t hear me. Are they deaf to my voice and blind to my body. I can see them but can not touch them. If only I could comfortable them, tell them that I’m okay. Though, this cruel world is what they told me as kid- you live until you die. I smiled at my daughter, look at how much she has grown, though why did you not visit me more? She cried into the shoulder of my wife who was putting on such a strong face but I know that when she gets home she’ll cry herself to sleep but she must be strong. My son, I’m sorry we never bonded as father and son but don’t be like your father. Play with your son, take him to the soccer games we never went to- enjoy your time with him. To my daughter in-law, thank you for giving me a grandson- he is handsome. Thank you for letting me seen him before I left. To my friends, do not cry nor feel guilty. It was not her fault, she didn’t know any better. My life was nothing but a dream- even now. Which ended with a protective bullet to my heart. It was already dark and as the power went on as I hit the ground. My last thought being, Lord take care of my family. My body, now, started to fade into the wind as people started to leave. I’m now just wind in the faces of people who knew me and those who don’t.

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