I wake up in a large, roomy box. The glossy, dark cherry wood blends into black velvet and silver hinges. It's cold and dark. I lift open the top and step out, discovering that it is a coffin, the inscription reading, "Skylar Charlotte Butler, beloved daughter, friend, and girlfriend. Forever in our hearts." "Bull", I mutter under my breath. I scan the walls of the dimly lit tunnel I am in, seeing a ladder climbing up to a heavy iron lid. I clamber up the rungs and lift the lid, stepping out into bright sunlight. As I lift my eyes, I see hundreds of men, women, and children, all running, walking, talking, reading, and even gardening. There is a sign on top of an immense skyscraper that reads, "The Emerald Plaza". I immediately walk inside to the front desk.
"Excuse me, ma'am, but where am I?" I ask, panicked.
"Welcome to The Emerald Plaza, the hotel for souls." The middle-aged woman croons sweetly. I become even more panicked.
"Am I... Am I dead?"
The woman smiles. "Well, sweetheart, if you're here, then you're dead. Are you new here?"
I answer her, "I just woke up in a coffin inside a tunnel underground, not 10 minutes ago."
"Oh, then, let me get you your apartment. What's your name, dear?"
"Skylar Charlotte Butler."
"And your date of birth?"
"September 8, 1997."
"And your date of death?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"The day you died. What is the last day you remember?"
"Oh, I think December 21, 2013."
"Alright, Miss Butler, your room is number 16, on the 2nd floor. Here is your information packet. It contains all the information you'll be needing for your stay with us. Have a great day, dear!"
I numbly take the key and info packet from her and go to find the elevator. When I do find it, I am surprised to see that the doors are painted sea foam green, my favorite color. Once the doors are shut, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I pinch myself.
No, this is not a dream, Skylar, I tell myself.
The elevator pings, announces the 2nd floor, and I get off. I go down the hallway painted a relaxing lavender, all the way to room 16. I unlock the door, and walk inside. The apartment is already completely furnished with a living room that has white plush sofa and navy and yellow throw pillows, a lamp, a glass coffee table, and a glass side table; an open kitchen; a bathroom decorated with the same navy, yellow, and white; and a large bedroom with a feather mattress and several pillows, all in white; and a walk-in closet. I walk back into the living room and sit on the sofa. Then the flashback hits me like a train. I see my mother standing, screaming over my body. My father punching the wall. Beck receiving the phone call, his face crumpling like a piece of paper as he drops to his knees, his phone smashed on the tile floor. Something pulls me out of the flashback. I am horrified, lying on the floor. Then I hear a knock at my door.
