Mom looked lost for a moment as she stared at the coffin; then, anger flashed across her face. "Sarah, I know you're just holding your breath in there to spite us. Well, keep it up. But tomorrow, when we open this coffin, we'll see if you can continue your charade."
A bitter laugh escaped my lips.
Mom, I don't have to pretend anymore.
Because I'm already dead.
And now, you won't have to deal with your troublesome, unwanted daughter ever again.
As the summer heat intensified, the smell grew unbearable. Neighbors held their noses as they passed; those who couldn't ignore it confronted my parents, only to be angrily turned away.
My parents seemed oblivious to the odor, happily anticipating Emily's spirit's return.
The seventh day arrived.
My parents were already stationed by the coffin early in the morning.
I was also curious about how this supposed guru would bring Emily's spirit back.
He was scheduled for midnight, but the doorbell rang in broad daylight.
They exchanged looks and hurried to the door.
Upon opening it, they were met with a shock.
There stood Emily, lip quivering, eyes filled with tears, the same Emily who had supposedly drowned.