by Melissa R. Bickel

Created on: June 14, 2008   Last Updated: August 19, 2011

Artificial Lighting

Silence is what greeted me, that and the smell of a dank, musky place. When entering the room I couldn't decide why the room's shadows were enveloping you. Your eyes were sunken, your cheeks were thin, your pale skin was glowing. You had a serene look about yourself, yet I felt like I had been transported into some Alfred Hitchcock tale.

For the longest moment I just stood there staring, I was afraid to move. What if your hand reached out and grab hold of me. Giving a nervous laugh, I looked around and backed up a little.

These dark shadows reminded me of voodoo and black magic. New Orleans is a city known for it's traditions steeped in voodoo and magic. Here I was smack dab in the middle of New Orleans, in a cold home where things make your skin crawl.

 In this city you don't turn your back on anything, especially in a funeral home. Just the fact we were all gathered here, in this house of death, on one of her streets this evening sparked already sensitive nerves to quicken my heart.

I heard the noises down the hall, some were laughing others were sobbing. The sounds were more of a hum than anything else, kind of like when the air conditioning kicks on and off to stave off the heat from the  humid and hot days of August.

I didn't care, all I could think about was the way you were staring at me. How much longer did I have to sit here? I wasn't for sure. I just knew that as soon as I could, Id be leaving this place behind. I'd never return!

Sweat started dripping down my back. I couldn't help but picture evil things, scary things dragging their fingertips down my spine. Boy, it sure was cold in here! I kept thinking, "darn you for bringing me here, darn you for looking that way". Your gaze was fixed as if mocking me, saying, "you fool."

Go ahead just lie there. What do you care, why would you care? You couldn't. Your life had ended. Shadows began moving with the descending sun. Did you just turn your head to stare at me? Gasping, I tried to suck in a breath of air. It felt like I had been sucker punched. I started clawing at my throat, trying to pull in what little air I could. This house was a stifling dark place of horror.!

"Stop it," I screamed. "Why, must you look that way"?  Turning my head, I hoped to ward off the fact that things would never be the same. Don't look at me as if I am the one who betrayed you. You did this to yourself, selling your soul to the devil. You're the one who cast lots and pulled away the short straw. I had begged you not to mixed up with "That" crowd. Now look at where it had gotten you!

New Orleans, is a city of voodoo and magic, it had captured another soul to hide amongst her chambered tombs and mausoleums. Another soul to walk among the dead, forever.

Getting up to leave, I turned around one last time. Pausing long enough for one more glance at you, one more time to see if you still watched me. Shivering, I walked away thinking, "dang that artificial lighting", it was highlighting your cold dead face.

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