Forever Undead Girl
I awake in darkness. Panic grips me with rough, calloused hands. Choking, I blindly feel around for a way out or something to reveal my location, only finding harsh resistance in every direction. Where? What? How? My desperation intensifies, fists lashing out at my confinement until I grow fatigued. As feeling slowly returns to my body, recognition pierces my mind, mirroring several splinters that now call my fingertips home. Wood, that’s what surrounded me. And then suddenly, it all finally clicked into place.
Oh, yeah… that's right… I died.
Again.
It was a common enough occurrence for me, but even so it… it was never a pleasant experience. Waking from endless nothingness wasn’t natural, but then again… nothing about who I was now, was natural. Allowing my mind to slowly pick up speed, I took several long minutes to steady myself in the surrounding silence before begrudgingly working my splintery digits into the seams of my coffin. Memories began flooding back as I wormed the tips of my fingers around the lid of my coffin. So much death. Such little life. Not long after beginning my ascent, I breached the surface and was assaulted by blinding light. Even though it was just barely dawn and a low fog clung to the ground, the sudden change from pure blackness fiercely stung my eyes. Eventually, I pulled myself up and over to the headstone and read the name. It wasn’t mine, never was mine. Whoever they were, their fate now lied inside the hole from which I had just emerged. Another target leading to another death. Another tick on my cycle count. It was an endless, inescapable cycle. Eyes still struggling to adjust, what moisture still remained in my worn, dried out body rolled down on my cheeks. A symptom of my recent rebirth or remnants from what emotions still remained, their origin mattered not. At least, that was what I told myself. Fate be damned, one day… I’ll break free from this cycle. One day, my name will be on that cross and I’ll finally be laid to rest.
