While I was at the funeral home I was running around and got lost, kind of. I ended up in a room that looked just like the one my uncle was in, except it was dark and no one was in there. At first, I thought everyone had gone home; I walked up to the coffin, and to my horror, it was another man in it. I was scared to death - this was someone I did not know and he did not look real. All I can remember is that pale white face and partially opened eyes. I ran as fast as I could and on the other side of the funeral home found my family. I was happy

to be with them, but yet still afraid of the other room, not knowing if that man could harm me.

I was so relieved and happy when my dad came home. My three-day nightmare was over. I never did see or hear from my ma after their trip until after my father died in 1993, but I really didn’t care. I was so happy to be with my father when he got home; everything was going to be okay, plus he brought me what seemed like a three-foot lollipop from the amusement park. I always worried about what I would do if I lost my father.

For three whole days I was scared to death, but I never said anything to Aunt Carol when she came to get me for meals. It felt so good to be with my aunt, uncle, and cousins during meals, but we were not allowed to talk or drink anything until the meal was finished. Then, shortly after we were done, my aunt would say, “Michael, it’s time to go back upstairs,” and reluctantly, I would go, knowing the fear I was going to experience again. I had chills up my back as I walked up the stairs to my lonely apartment. I turned back, said goodnight to my aunt, and closed the door behind me.

My first night was the worst. I was so afraid to be up there all by myself. All I could think about was that man in the funeral home. Could he come back for me, and who would be there to protect me? I knew the rules – I was not allowed to go downstairs unless I was asked to, so I spent many hours sitting next to the door hoping someone would come and let me play with my cousins. During this time I kept seeing what I thought was my dead uncle – or was it the other dead guy? I would turn my head and he would just pass by really fast, like he was hiding from me. Uncle Frank always played games with me, like making his fingers disappear (it turns out he really was missing two fingers). I always thought he was fooling with

Some topics in this essay:
Aunt Carol, Uncle Frank, Air Force, Indiana L-shaped, Brown Door, funeral home, uncle frank, dead guy, spent sitting door, brown door, aunt carol, scared death, aunt uncle, amusement park, spent sitting, sitting door,