I have no motivation to move. What's the point of going on if I am dead? Of course there is still a slim chance that- No. I am dead. It's pretty clear now. I'm done crying, but now I have a numb feeling in my chance.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
The tapping was really the only thing that I knew would always happen, since every now and then I would hear it.
Tap.
I try and put the pieces to this puzzling place I am at together, but I am missing something. Okay, I hear tapping when I enter something that moves... Like the elevator, that bus, the subway and now the train. But what does that mean?
Wait, what subway? I haven't been to a subway.
Tap.
Maybe it's a reminder. Reminding me of what though? My death? Maybe. Unless I am dying and, well, I am unconscious or something. But how can I be unconscious and still be able to think clearly? Plus, I feel depressed.
Tap.
I shove the thought aside. No use for it now.
Tap.
Sadly, I still gain no motivation to move. In fact, the reason I even move was the sound of a train door opening.
Tap.
It was the door that lead to the room which I saw all the dead bodies. I didn't see any of the bodies, but what I did see was a man, holding gun. I jump out of my seat, but as soon as I do, the man is gone.
Tap.
My next thought is, “Nope, no more trains for me.” And I head to the way I came from.
I stand next to a pond, train now gone as soon as I step off. The numb, wrenching, feeling returns. No crying just staring at a pond, and of course you can't forget the nothingness and void that lurks around the pond as well.
I step closer, and place my hands in the water. It's frigid, and I jolt my hand out of the water. I look behind me, hoping for a path so I don't have to swim in the pond, but i...
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...e, door ajar and asking to be boarded.
I step onto it. I jump a little to see floating objects, like phones, kindles, books, and even a newspaper hovers over sets. It's almost has if...has if people were holding them, I just couldn't see them. I had seen floating objects like this before in this void place or whatever, but never really took notice.
I sigh, sitting down in a spot where nothing is floating over it.
Tap.
I suddenly long for home, I feel sad, but not as bad as earlier.
Tap.
I feel my little journey through this place would soon end.
Tap.
This isn't even how I imagined death at all. All of the things I went through. What was it for?
Tap.
Could it be...Could it be like a test? If I fail, I get stuck here. Maybe ghost are real.
Tap.
Maybe they are stuck here because they didn't make it.
Tap.
Am I one of those ghosts?
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Finding a door to exit would become a puzzling exercise during one of their St. Albans investigations. Terri and Marie were in what is known as “the safe room,” because a large old-fashioned safe is located there. They had completed their investigation and were readying to leave the room when they realized they couldn’t. There wasn’t a door. “It was as if it had been morphed over,” said Terri. “We went around and around in circles. We were growing concerned when we made another lap and there it was. It was as if the door materialized out of nowhere,” she said.
The Four Horsemen documentary gives an idea on how democracy works its effects on global economy on far reaching scale and its consequences. The six stages named are age of Pioneers, age of Conquests, age of Commerce, age of Affluence, age of Intellect & age of decadence. The common feature among all empires which often end with age of decadence where greed takes over all, recalcitrant military, disparity across two sections of the society of rich and poor and obsession with lust. The Six stages ominously sounds plausible .The four horsemen sounds the horn of referring to Terrorism, exploitation of resources where the current democratic empire of nations is compared to Rome where once currency was based on silver standard
The train finally comes to a halt. After traveling 6500 miles away from their home
The mind is a very powerful tool when it is exploited to think about situations out of the ordinary. Describing in vivid detail the conditions of one after his, her, or its death associates the mind to a world that is filled with horrific elements of a dark nature.
It began with the cold. Spots of cold. A moment of normal then cold, as if the heat were sucked into another dimension. These don’t bother me as much as the touch. A handless touch of nothing. Something grabbed by arm but no one was there.
to and fro with a dull, heavy, monotonous clang; and when the minute hand made the circuit.
When most people think of paranormal activity they instantly think of ghosts, spirits, or even demons. Paranormal activity is more than that. Paranormal is when something is beyond normal and activity is the state of being active. Some people like to say it’s their imagination, but me personally, I think it is much more than that. Paranormal is used to describe something unordinary that lack a scientific explanation (Cha Cha Inc., 2006). (McGuire, 2010) stated that supernatural or paranormal events which occur when people are not seeking them out can be very difficult and frightening. Most people wonder about the different ways paranormal activity can be explained. A few different examples of paranormal activity are ghosts, levitation, telegraphs, etc. Footsteps, abnormal sounds, shadows, and even moving objects are all signs of paranormal activity.
As I waited for the 6 train, I walked to the spot to get on, calculated purposefully to the exit of my final destination stop. To ignore the homeless people in the way of where I am going, I turn my music louder, look down, and walk faster. Once I arrived at the stop, I grounded my feet at where I presumed the train doors would open so I will be the first to get on. As usual, I was the first to step onto the train. I went in slowly, snooping for a seat. As I looked down the row of people, like stalks of corn, I was pushed. Shoved into the train by hands clinging onto my shirt, I looked back in disgust. An old lady, arms still stretched from pushing me, looked back and mouthed, “Thank you.” Furious, I thought, did she really just thank me
that every person must undergo over their entire life. All stages are present at birth but only begin to unfold according to both a natural scheme and one's ecological and cultural upbringing. In each stage, the person faces, new challenges. Each stage builds upon the successful completion of the previous stages. The challenges of stages which are not successfully completed may be expected to reappear as problems in the future. The eight stages include, trust vs. mistrust, autonomy vs. shame/doubt, initiative vs. guilt, industry vs. inferiority, identity vs. role confusion, intimacy vs. isolation, generativity vs. stagnation, and integrity vs. despair.
...we found the bodies, yet the crashing blue-green water spins me into a reality that is worlds away from the sight of stiff men. I'm not sure if this is healing or forgetfulness; all I can be certain of is the bite of the water on my skin and the dropping sun. I stare at my hand under the surface of the water, fascinated by how far away it looks and by the deep blue color of my fingernails. That hand isn't a part of my body, how can it be, it is deep in the water, opening and closing experimentally as water crashes on top of it. I want to leave it there, forever feeling the numbing water, forever fighting the currents that would wash it out to the Pacific Ocean. But then my arm moves, lifts my hand, and I realize it is mine, as are my legs and toes and wet matted hair. And the water keeps falling, pounding, rushing and I just stand there, staring, watching, waiting.
It’s a hard thing to explain to somebody who hasn’t felt it, but the resence of death and danger has a way of bringing you fully awake. It makes things vivid. When you’re afraid, really afraid, you see things you never saw before, you pay attention to the world. You make close friends. You become part of a tribe and you share the same blood – you give it together, you take it together. (O’Brien, 220)
Two years and four months ago I died. A terrible condition struck me, and I was unable to do anything about it. In a matter of less than a year, it crushed down all of my hopes and dreams. This condition was the death of my mother. Even today, when I talk about it, I burst into tears because I feel as though it was yesterday. I desperately tried to forget, and that meant living in denial about what had happened. I never wanted to speak about it whenever anyone would ask me how I felt. To lose my Mom meant losing my life. I felt I died with her. Many times I wished I had given up, but I knew it would break the promise we made years before she passed away. Therefore, I came back from the dead determined and more spirited than before.
Surrounded by a foggy white film, I tried to adjust my vision to see. Anything familiar would appease me at this point. Nonetheless, I did not see a thing. Am I dead?" I thought to myself. Can this possibly be what the afterlife is like? I began to feel very anxious. The dense mist totally consumed my body and mind. This was not what I planned for myself. My life was supposed to be filled with an array of happiness, love, wonderful sights, and the joy of watching my children grow. Where is my sanctuary? Last thing I remember was looking out of my window and seeing the serene sky. At the time, I assumed I would be joining those that I love so deeply. My assumption was dismissed by a glimmer of reflection on my life up to this point.
Not many people think of death as something that can be survived. After all, death is an escapable aspect of life for all things on Earth. There are, however, instances where death stares one in the face and is repelled at the last moment. This is the closest one can be to experiencing death, for death is the interruption of anymore experiences. The avoidance of death, whether just or not, will have the same everlasting effect. The survivor will forever carry that moment with them, haunted by the injustice done to them. Robbed of the serenity that death can offer from bleak scenarios, life becomes devoid of the vibrancy it once possessed. The survivor becomes a ghost with a physical form, a remnant of their former selves with
Day by day, I remained silent in my bed thinking of nothing but my imminent death. I never spoke, consumed anything, nor stood up. I was totally weak. I was literally dying.