Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-24731163-20140813004717

''This is based on a very detailed nightmare I had one night about my grandpa, who died years ago. It was really disturbing to me, so I figured I would share it in hopes that it would be creepy to others as well. If it completely sucks, just let me know.''

It was an odd occurrence, the fact that there were so many individuals in that dark, small room that I did not recognize. Relatives of the deceased, possibly – the deceased being my beloved grandfather, or 'Papa' as I'd called him during his life. I still to this day do not understand why or where I got the idea to call him that, as I am not Hispanic nor did I grow up around a Hispanic family, so it was not the proper endearment 'papa' for a father figure. Nevertheless, he was my Papa and I loved him very much. He was my best friend, and I always eagerly anticipated his jokes and funny stories. He would often tease me and tell me the silliest of things, sometimes of a sort that were not appropriate for a child at so young an age at the time, but nothing too terribly vulgar that would warrant my parents' attention.



This best friend of mine, this man that had valued me so much and loved me so dearly, my beloved Papa laid before me this strange day in this small, dark room in an odd contraption. I attempted to squeeze around the circle of seats that were so cramped together, finding it difficult to take my eyes off of my Papa. Once I reached an open seat I looked about in every direction to see the large amount of people in the room, all talking and smiling, a few of them overweight women with too much makeup and dressed as if they were going out to a vintage dinner with their gentleman husbands. The one woman that caught my eye for longer than was appropriate was rather large, with a beautiful sequined dress and a hat atop her head with a large feather in it. She had a long cigarette holder resting between her fingers, the thing possibly made of some sort of gold-plated material. The smoke rose in a small line up to the antique ceiling where a beautiful crystal chandelier hung in this strange room (which, at this point, I attempted to guess as a parlor). She paid no mind to my musings and I decided that it was rude to stare for so long, and I was finally able to look away.



Still standing before my seat, I looked down around this strange area that my Papa laid within. Lining the bottom were many objects, most of them endearments that reminded those of the deceased. I spotted most clearly a hand reaching down to place a boxed set of the original Looney Tunes episodes among the gifts that were offered. I mused to myself the strangeness of this, simply because one would assume that a box of brand new DVDs would be quite a strange gift for the dead. Papa was always full of laughs and clever jokes however, so this wasn't completely lost in translation.



I finally took my seat and observed the area wherein my dear Papa laid resting. It then occurred to me with much discomfort that he shouldn't have been there. Something clicked into place at that moment in my mind, something most unpleasant; Papa had died ten years previous to this very date. My breath quickened and my eyes grew in size as I came upon this rather unwelcome memory. Perhaps it was a mistake - perhaps I was simply confusing this corpse for another. I looked to my surroundings once more to observe that all were as merry as they had been upon my entering, none seeming to notice my presence. I still recognized not a one of them, and that further cemented my doubts that I was looking upon my Papa's body before me. I was jerked from my observations as I noticed a twitch from the center of the room where the deceased laid. My heart threatened to break the barrier of my chest as I stared in horror at the body before me, as the one so similar to my Papa continued to twitch ever so slightly.



I swallowed hard and tried to reason with myself. Nothing was right about the situation that I was in, nothing could have been explained by a perfectly sane mind. Leaving that deduction aside, I came to the conclusion that I was indeed going mad. The dead could not move, nor could they be relocated in such decent condition after ten years as if they had only died the day before. I stood from my chair in a solid leap as an adrenaline rush of fear tore through my chest, watching in horror as the corpse before me opened its eyes. The strange, wooden casket that it laid in was seeming more and more like a vulgar wooden tub as every terrible second ticked past, a place most undignified and disrespectful for a beloved member of any family to rest in. I felt that it had to mean something, the sudden degradation of my Papa's resting place – it was clearly my Papa. All of this became much, much worse as the corpse turned its head in my direction, the white beard and hair a further signification of my Papa's visage. I was nearly in tears, my eyes darting about the room only to find nothing but ignorance of the entire horrific event. Had no one noticed but myself the strange actions of this corpse? This corpse that was once my dear Papa ten years ago?



I cast my eyes back upon the dead in front of me, watching as he attempted to form words. I wanted to turn my head away badly, for the look of raw fear was strikingly clear within my Papa's eyes. They were as large as saucers, his mouth opened in a silent formation of words. I was only able to catch a grunt here and there, a supposed groan as his attempt to convey a message of some sort was lost. Finally, as I had frozen myself to the spot to attempt to make out his words, they formed loudly and clearly all at once in a frenzied, distressed voice.



“I'm in HELL! HELP ME! I'm in HELL! HELP ME!”  