Happy Birthday

I was dead. My body rested on a cloud of red inside a clear glass cylinder that was my casket. I'd been laid to rest in a gossamer white dress. Dainty white slippers covered my feet.

My dark hair was curled, and a yellow ribbon wound through several strands like a headband.

In my hands, I clutched a single red rose, the color of my stained lips. Dark lashes stood out against the stark white of my skin. The casket rested on a white stand in a lush field full of thousands of white daisies.

They swayed in the slight wind.

The smartly-dressed brothers and Professor Pops were at the foot of my casket, and the vampire queen stood near my head.

She wore a blood-red dress that scooped low, enhancing her cleavage. Above, the sun shone brightly. Birds twittered in nearby pine trees. The hum of insects provided a despondent melody, and a babbling brook meandered nearby.

It was like looking at a painting of a moment in time.

No one spoke.

No one moved.