[ WP ] A ghost follows his zombie body around after he dies watching himself attack and eat people .

I never used to believe in a life after death. I always thought that once you died, that was it. You're just... gone. But the other day, after being seriously ill for weeks from some mysterious illness the doctors could n't identify, I died. And I'm still here, in more ways than one. 
 
 For a while, I was too shocked at being... *dead* to accept what had happened. I kept trying to re enter my body, even after watching my own funeral and burial. Eventually I gave up, and sat there in the dark of my coffin, looking at my own corpse. I was dead and it looked like I was staying that way. Except part of me was n't. Was I a ghost? Did I have some purpose in life that was left unfulfilled when I died? What now? I spent a long time just floating there and thinking. In fact I might still be there if it had n't happened. 
 
 It was pitch black, no human could have seen what had happened. But I did. I was looking at my body yet again, when its eyes snapped open. I blinked in surprise, thinking I must be imagining things. But then my corpse raised its arm and slammed it into the coffin lid. I stared. Was *I* doing this? I wiggled what I thought would be my fingers if I had a physical form, but there was no response from my body. It just kept slamming my arm into the lid of the coffin. At one point I heard a bone snap, and winced despite the lack of pain. What was going on here? 
 
 Once my body had destroyed the lid of the coffin, a feat which I thought would be impossible for humans, it began clawing its way towards the surface through the earth. It was horrifying to watch, and at that point I felt a cold shiver of fear down my non corporeal spine. If I was n't controlling the body, what *was*? What would happen when my reanimated corpse reached the surface? 
 
 The answer was even more horrific than I had been expecting. It was day time, and as the filthy, dirt caked fingers of my corpse breached the surface, someone saw them. My mother. 
 
 `` Oh my god,'' she gasped. I can only imagine what she felt in that instant. It had been a week or so since I'd been buried, so there was no way I could possibly be alive. But there were my hands, grasping at daylight. In the end she helped my corpse out, brushing away the dirt and pulling at my wrists. I stood there before her, clumps of dirt caught up in my hair and a faint scent of decay filling the air around me. My mother opened her mouth to say something. Who knows what. My body did n't give her the chance to speak. 
 
 I was completely powerless as it lunged towards her, mouth wide open. My cries of horror did nothing as it tore into her neck with my own teeth. I tried to get it off her, but my fists went straight through and did n't do a thing. I could n't even close my eyes, because I did n't have any. I just had to hover there and watch as I murdered my own mother. 
 
 It's been three weeks since that happened. Three weeks of watching my corpse rampage around slaughtering people. And of course, like any zombie movie will tell you, the people I killed did not die for good. Most of the population has now been infected with the illness that started with me, and my body is n't the only one roaming the streets looking for fresh meat. The rest of my family are safe, fortunately. My father ended up having to shoot my mother, and the look on his face is one I'll never forget. But at least she's free now. 
 
 I sometimes wonder what happened to her... soul, spirit, ghost, whatever you want to call it. Did she die when my corpse ripped her throat out? Or did she experience the same as me, following her corpse around until my father shot it in the head? Is she still out there somewhere? If she is, I ca n't find her. I followed her body around for a while, hoping for a sign that she was still here, but there was nothing. Only more carnage. 
 
 I watch as my corpse approaches a house. I know there are people in there, I can hear them. I think it can as well. It swings my arms and smashes a window, climbing through despite the jagged shards of glass that tear open my side. I remain outside, not wanting to witness this. I think there are children in there. 
 
 But instead of screams, I hear a gunshot. A pause, then more shots. My imaginary heart leaps. Did they kill me? I float into the house to see what had happened. My body is wounded, but not dead. Although it is thrashing wildly on the floor, unable to move properly, there is no sign of fear in my glassy, dead eyes. A man stands over it, pointing a gun at it. I stare at him, urging him to shoot. 
 
 *Do it. * 
 
 *Do it. * 
 
 *DO IT! * 
 
 Without realising, I shout the words out loud. The man jumps slightly. He ca n't have heard me, can he? But then he tightens his grip on the gun and pulls the trigger. And then finally, as my already dead body dies for a second time, I'm gone.
