I Am Poem

In school I am quiet.
Outside of school I am loud.

In class I am reserved.
In life I am out going.

In class discussions I am shy and never raise my hand.
In baton practice I am crazy, they call me the comedian.

My country lets me be free.
My school keeps me restrained.

I am the leader of my team.
I am a friend to all my peers.

My two personality makes me who I am.
I am Jessica Musseau.

Days had pasted and soon months. He laid there helplessly. His body as white as snow. His hands cold as ice. He hadn’t ate in days and it started to show. I could count each rib one by one. His bones where seeking through his skin and he began to look more like a skeleton than a human being. Every breathe was a struggle. His time was coming to an end.
Every morning I would go to his bed and try to wake him up. “Daddy, Daddy wake up!” He would wake up resistibly and would always having coughing fits. The nurses would rush in and push me aside like I was nothing, so that they could tend to my Daddy’s coughing spells. Most of the time he would cough up blood and the nurses would go into a silent panic. They all would stand there and look at each other, then call in the doctor. They knew he only had moments to spare.
One morning I went to go wake him up, I pushed, shoved and yelled for him to wake up. Nothing. As I pushed his body I felt he was colder than ever before. I persistent in my attempts to wake him. My mother had finally had a enough of my screaming and came in to see what was wrong. She began to call for him, “Lucius wake up my dear…” she called in the nurses and doctor. They gathered around him. My mother grabbed me and held me close as we watched helplessly. I could feel my mothers pain and the tears streaming down her face. And then happened, they pronounced he was gone at before sunrise. I had just lost my Daddy.
That day was the worst days of my life. The roman empire was all up in arms about their leaders death. They panicked and crying among the streets and they cried out his name. No one knew where the roman empire would go from here. As time pasted, I began to accept that my father was dead. I believe that he really didn’t even leave me. I felt his presents all around me, guiding me through my day. Every morning since his death, I felt him trying to wake me up, getting me back for all the time I woke him. I believe my father never really died, just his spirit here on earth. I see me around house from time to time checking up on things. My mother doesn’t believe me, when I tell her I see him. I see him back to his normal self, pink cheeks and always a grin on his face. A much happier form of my father. His spirit lives on and he never lets me forget his presents are around me all the time.

My Funeral

The sun was scorching and the humidity was higher than usual. It was so hot I could barely stand. I could feel the temperature rising as the time pasted. I decided to go find some where to sit because I could no longer tolerate the heat. I sat upon I stone bench under a tree. The bench had carvings of angels and all heavenly creatures. The bench seemed old from the cracked, rough edged surface and the growing moss crawling up the side. The tree did not give much relief from sun but it sustained my body temperature. As I sat I gazed around at the scenery. The lust grass filled the whole field. The rose bushes were in bloom. Stones where spaced out all around me. Some of the stones were standing and there were others that were in the ground. The stones inscribed different names and dates but from where I was sitting I could not make out anything. In the field there was a little dirt road and a little ways down the road, several cars began to pull up. They parked one right after another. People began to file out of their cars and crowded around this box. As they came up to the box, they placed different styles of flowers upon the box. Everyone was dressed in the same color, black. The men were in a black jacket and tie suit and all the women were wearing long black dresses with big huge hats and this fish net material that covered their faces. I got up and made my way over to the group of people to see what was going on. As I got a closer look, I saw the women weeping. Tears rolled down their faces one right after another. Standing at the front of the box was a man, who was reading from a book and saying some type of prayer to the poignant group. In the prayer I heard a name I recognize, a name I have heard repeatedly throughout my time. Josephine Turner, it was my name! The box than began to lower and the weeping women cries progressively got louder. I didn’t understand why everyone was crying. I went up to the stone that everyone was crowded around to see if I could get any type of understanding of what was going on. On the stone there was a inscription like all other stones. A beloved daughter and friend, September 2, 1890 - 1923, may she rest in peace, Josephine turner. Was it true, was this my funeral. I am the reason for bring such sorrow to these people. I looked around but I am alive, I thought. “I’m right here, I’m alive” I yelled. No one even acknowledged my presents. No one looked up or even flinched. I shook a women vigorously, so that I could get some type of acknowledgement. Nothing. The people began to make their way back to their cars. “STOP! STOP!” I yelled trying to hold back people. Nothing worked. “I’m right here!” My eyes began to water and tears streamed down my face. There was no hope. I went back to the box. I saw myself being lowered in to the ground. Then men tossing dirt into the whole of where I laid. I the thought to myself about how all those people were there for me and that I was cause for their unhappiness, but why couldn’t anyone hear me, why didn’t they see me, I was right there. Then I wondered, was I really alive? Where am I….?



Photo taken by Jude Huff-Felz GRS member at the Bachelor’s Grove cemetery 8/10/91 http://www.ghostresearch.org/ghostpics/ghost3.html

My Declaration

I declare my concept to be the afterlife. I chose the afterlife because I always wondered what happens after death. I do believe that there is life after death but I don’t know exactly what. Where do you go? Does reincarnation happen? Where do you leave your spirit? Is there a heaven or hell? I think that you should not be afraid of death, you have no way of escaping it, you should just in brace it and what ever comes, comes. Do not fear the unknown.