Her eyes drooped heavily, washing her features in sleepiness. She sat on the soft bed, embracing its warmth. She had awaited something for a while. Something that stayed out of her desperate clutches. Death. She was not suicidal, no. She just had wanted the sweet comfort of death to take toll on her. Curiosity killed the cat. She wanted to see what death held for her. What happened after death.
It was late at night. Looking at the clock, she had seen it was about 11:00 p.m. She climbed into her bed finally, wrapping the sheets around her freezing figure. She couldn’t help but wonder what death held. Ah yes, her lovely and curious mind thought of it every night. Every night held a different possibility. Heaven. Hell. Being a ghost, trapped on this planet for eternity. Floating aimlessly in a void, no one around. Pain or comfort from the death embracing the corpse for all of time, whilst driving the person mad from loneliness.
Her eyelids have fluttered closed, her lips parted slightly. Her deep breathing had taken over the silence. However, another sound sliced the silence, as if it were mere butter. Footsteps. The door creaked open. A man entered the room. He had a bandana over his nose and mouth, and sunglasses coated over his eyes. A peculiar choice, to be said, from it being almost midnight.
He slipped into the room, silent as a mouse. The man crept towards the girl’s bed, a large knife exposed. It had dry blood on the sharper part. His breathing was as silent as his footsteps as he slipped to the soft piece of furniture. His free hand shook her awake.
She groggily groaned, a yawn attempting to force its way through her lips. Her eyelids slid open slowly, and she turned to face him. Her energy that had been barely recovered from sleep was used just as easily as her small form sat up. She, confusedly to the man, smiled. “Will you help me?” Is what confused the man even more. “I want to see what is after death, but I don’t have anything to kill myself with, nor do I have the guts to kill myself.” She had continued. She searched the man’s quizzical expression for some sort of an answer.
Oh, the answer came alright. Came in a flash. Pain seared from her most important organ, as blood trickled down from the wound. Her eyes traveled to the wound, smiling and crying. “Thank… you…” was all she muttered, before her lifeless body went crashing into the bed.
The man slid the knife out, watching as the garnet colored liquid spilled out. He uncomfortably tucked her corpse back in, before taking his leave. The corpse was beautiful, if you think that weird way. Ashen, cold skin hung tightly over large glassy eyes. A smile graced the body’s lips, making the scene to give you a puzzled feeling. Hair spread over the pillows, giving the corpse bathed in moonlight an angelic feeling. A ruby colored stain was on plain white sheets as it also dribbled silently out of her mouth.
She had now seen what was after death, but that information is not to be shared.
She just think, curiosity killed the cat, and it had died with satisfaction.
There is no such thing as “I was just curious.” no matter how you rephrase or reword it. Curiosity is a very simple thing. It is when something peaks your interest enough to ask questions. But, these situations always come from somewhere. Whether it was something that happened, something you saw, or something you heard.
Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. But what happens when just because of that little bit of curiosity, you’ve injured the situation so badly, that there’s no possible way to heal it?
ANONYMOUS
SOURCE UNKNOWN
GREENSEA 