If I were to preserve my body after death, this is how I would do it. I would object to any kind of embalming. I want all my organs intact. I’d take a page from Snow White and demand for a glass coffin. It has to be raised above the ground so that everyone can see me. I must have a cellphone with me that has one year worth of credits and battery life. I need this because in case I come back to life, I can call or text someone and say, “Hey, I’m still alive. Get me out of here!”
A historical tv show implanted this paranoia in my mind. The show said that during the ancient times, they didn’t have accurate means to know whether a person was just clinically dead or really dead. To avoid burying people who were still alive, a ring would be placed on the corpse’s finger, and there would be a string that connected the ring to a bell that hung above the coffin. If the cemetery’s caretaker hears a bell ringing, he’d know that he needs to dig up the grave. Some people say that this might have been the inspiration for the vampire legends.
Another program on tv featured an excavated area which revealed buried infant skeletons. The infants looked like they were trying to crawl to the surface. They might have been pronounced dead prematurely, buried six feet under, woke up, and tried to crawl out, but failed to see daylight.
My teacher Miss Windsor had an aunt named Elizabeth Windsor. The older Windsor taught in Miriam too, and she was a terror teacher. Her nickname was Det, but people called her Death Windsor behind her back. There were rumors that when Det died, she came back to life after three days. In the province, they don’t embalm people because they believe that souls return after three days. Sounds familiar? In Det’s wake, she woke up, scared the hell out people in attendance, except for her daughter.
Ripley’s Believe It or Not had a segment about this spy who woke up in a morgue. They thought he was dead, and his body was placed in the morgue’s freezer for several days. When they took out the body, he was alive, his eyes were open, and he was looking around, but he couldn’t do anything because his body was frozen stiff. He was looking at the embalmer who was preparing the tools to cut him up. He wanted to scream to the embalmer “Don’t cut me up, I’m still alive,” but his lips were immobile. He was scared to death. He thought that was it for him. The embalmer took a sharp blade and proceeded to open him up, then stopped. The embalmer looked at the guy’s head and saw that his eyes were moving. The embalmer called for help. He didn’t know why the embalmer stopped, but he was grateful. Later he found out that the reason why he was saved was that he bled. Dead people don’t bleed when they are cut up.
Two people coming back from the dead, and a whole coffin tradition that ensures proper rescue in case the buried rise up…hmmm….not so special now, are you Jesus?
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Age of the Diary by Jasmine T. Cruz. If you like this post, please subscribe to this blog. Follow Ja on Twitter: ageofthediary. Email Ja at: ageofthediary@gmail.com.
