Reggie's Funeral

Part 1

I stood among Reggie’s family as we watched the men lower his casket into the ground. Everyone was quiet, contemplative, respectful. It was mostly people that he had been very close with who were in attendance, but his family, like him, were very polite. And so they invited his coworkers as well. Nobody else from the office but me showed up, but I didn’t mind. Reggie was such a kind and understanding voice in our lives, that it felt natural to be here. When people got anxious in the office, Reggie would walk over to them in the break room and calm them down. There were many times when I was panicking that I would miss my deadlines, and he would be right by my side telling me that everything would be alright. Sometimes things didn’t turn out alright, but Reggie’s encouragement still meant the world. That was how he met most people: using his calm demeanor to keep them sane.

Despite it being silent at the funeral, one could tell that everybody was thinking about what a great, positive influence Reggie had been on their lives. A warrior against anxiety, a pillar of meditation and calm who kept us stable. I didn’t know anyone else there, but I knew that like me, they would miss him. Now, Reggie was as at peace as he had made the rest of us in life. We were woken from our solemn reflection when the casket hit the ground. The men shoveled the dirt into the hole as the preacher recited his passages. We left the graveyard that day in quiet contemplation, which turned to appreciation for the man we lost.

Part 2

Reggie awoke. Everything was pitch black. He could smell dirt, and wood. What was happening? Reggie tried to move any part of his body, but couldn’t. Where was he? Reggie slowly began to remember. He had a sudden heart attack. He had years of heart problems, and they suddenly caught up to him. He was dead. He was dead, and in a coffin. Confused panic and fear turned into informed panic and fear. His mind was firing on all cylinders, an explosion of horrible anxiety that he could not control. He was dead, in a coffin, and could not leave. Reggie had never felt such horrible, uncontrollable panic, not even as he died. In death, he was in a place of unimaginable fear and panic, totally absent of control.

His consciousness was confined to the dark coffin for eternity. There was nothing he could do. Even if he could move his body to scream or smash the coffin lid, nobody would ever hear him. Heaven and hell were not real, it turned out. But any afterlife would be preferable to the eternal misery he was to endure.