I hate how hospitals smell.
They smell of death and disease and sadness all drowned in bleach and sterilizers to cover the stench that we all know is there. They’re not fooling anyone. People die here everyday and we know it. I just never thought I would be one of them.
I knew I was going to die, my doctor had told me I had less than two hours to live about an hour and a half ago. I was perfectly okay with it too, I knew I  was going to a better place. I had spent my time on Earth and now that time was up, even if it was cut short by some unpronounceable blood disease I never knew about.
A warm feeling engulfed my body as I closed my eyes for what was likely the last time. I sighed and slipped away, peacefully.
I woke up sometime later with no idea of how much time had passed. I couldn’t move my body at all or even open my eyes, they felt cemented shut. I faintly felt the ground moving beneath me, as if I was in a vehicle of some sort. I would have panicked, and I did for a short time, but I simply didn’t have the energy to be scared or worried. I began to feel drowsy again. Exhausted and confused, I fell into a deep sleep once more.
This time when I woke up, I was fully awake and could move, but still could not open my eyes. They felt open, but I knew they couldn’t be, it was far too dark. I attempted to sit up but hit my body hard on what felt like wood.I felt around with my hands and discovered I was in a wooden box, around six feet long and three feet wide, with a height of less than two feet. I slowly touched my face with my hand. My eyes were open, it was just so dark that I had assumed they weren’t.
I also noticed something else.
I wasn’t breathing.
The shock of where I was hit me. I screamed and yelled as loud as I could for help but knew it wasn’t coming. I wasn’t getting out of this box. Not now, not ever. I swatted ants and spiders off of my outer thigh but more always took their place. I could feel them eating away at me. So this is where people go when they die, I thought. I wondered what happened to people who were cremated. Where did the soul go when the body was gone? I knew my body would be nothing but mush soon enough, then a skeleton, then bone dust, then nothing. But people who had their bodies cremated, did their soul follow the ashes? I wish I was cremated. I would give anything to be cremated. In fact, I would give anything for the unnaturally sterile smell of the hospital.
I sighed and went back to sleep.
Goodnight.