When I was about 6, I thought no one actually died, but instead when they were older they were taken to a cemetery, wrapped in chains, put in a glass box and buried alive with cement poured over them. I believe this was due to the fact that I saw a magician doing an escape attempt and I grossly misinterpreted the circumstances.
I imagined everyone underground in their glass coffins, looking to the right, or left, and giving their fellow buried friend a sad nod, acknowledging the world was done with them.
This was compounded by the fact that my great aunt died and I overhead someone say that she "finally gave up" or "she finally let go", further leading me to the conclusion that death was a choice, and that she was hauled to the cemetery where everyone was waiting to put her in the ground, and then she just finally said ok.
I was petrified that someone was going to take me to the cemetery and coerce me into being buried alive.
I imagined everyone underground in their glass coffins, looking to the right, or left, and giving their fellow buried friend a sad nod, acknowledging the world was done with them.
This was compounded by the fact that my great aunt died and I overhead someone say that she "finally gave up" or "she finally let go", further leading me to the conclusion that death was a choice, and that she was hauled to the cemetery where everyone was waiting to put her in the ground, and then she just finally said ok.
I was petrified that someone was going to take me to the cemetery and coerce me into being buried alive.