Death Is Not The End

• Olivia Nikolarakos, Grade 5
• Short Story
• 2022

Sophie had been lying in the silk linen bed for ages. Staring up at the wooden lid and wondering what life was like outside. She didn’t know how long she had been on those fabric pillows for. Her gut twisted and bent. She felt like her brain had been removed because she couldn’t think straight. The last vision she could remember was staring up at a hospital ceiling and feeling hopeless. There were lots of familiar faces staring down at her. Worry and fear washed over their faces. Their eye bags were so low and heavy. The moon light slipped into the gap between the lid and box Sophie was lying in. She lifted one skeletal-like hand. The knuckles bulged out of their sockets. The veins glowed blue. She slipped her fingers out the crack and lifted.

She willed her muscles to pull her up and stand. She was neither living nor dead. Human or skeleton. Little bits of remaining flesh stuck to her biceps. Her frock was covered in dirt and mold. Her eyes pierced the graveyard and stopped on a tombstone buried in moss. Another stood there. Staring at her. Any flesh had been long removed. Limbs were twisted in impossible directions but with a defining pop they were back in place. Their jaws dropped at one side and their hips jutted out. He turned and walked into the bushes and Sophie hurried after. The fun was about to start…

They staggered into the forgotten town and down the long alleyways into the night. The moonlight spilled onto the paved road and the streetlights flickered casting shadows across the eerie sidewalk. The bones of a thousand years lurched in through the gates of the botanical gardens and through town. They stopped at a tall, cowering house with roses sprayed along the front. Two humongous lions towered over the entrance and the skeletons scuttled in. Rows of chairs laid out in front of them. Lanterns illuminated the room. Stain glass windows covered the walls and the altar at the front was surrounded by them. A red and white sheet covered a big box on the table. Sophie recognized it instantly. It looked just like hers. The golden plating. Kate. Her young daughter. Her only daughter. Strong and brave, beautiful yet dead. A tear rolled down Sophie’s face. Into the curves of her dented bones. Dropping to the floor. The boy left and she was alone.

She waited until the bell struck twelve. Tears cascaded down her face but this time they were happy tears. The coffin lid smashed to the floor. In its wake, stood a young human. Barely scarred. On the outside. Sophie knew Kate's heart was shattering and breaking inside. She knew the pain and energy it took to not let it show. They locked eyes and everything around them melted away. The boy - long forgotten - stepped into the room and gazed at his sister. He rushed to her side, bones clicking together.