death

I believed that when you were watching TV or a film and someone died that the makers of the film would go out and look for people who didn't want to be alive anymore and actually kill them on film. Horrific!

i used to think that when people died in a horror movie they were really dead so i figured that when someone wanted to kill themselves they would just try out for a horror movie

I used to believe that if anyone offered you a ride, and you got in their car, bad things would happen to you and you would die. Even if it was your friend and her mom, insisting on giving you a ride as they drive alongside you as you walk all the way home.

I used to believe…

When I was about 5, I heard some of my mother's friends talking about a man that had "bit the dust".I learned that phrase meant "to die". The thought scared me so horribly, I became an incredible neat freak at 6! I dusted my room everyday, in fear that one of my family members would "bite my dust"!

I used to believe…

When I learned that Princess Diana died in a car accident because the "paparazzi" were chasing her I thought paparazzi was a person. Boy did I hate that paparazzi.

I used to believe…

There are some cannons at the local cemetary.. I used to think that when you were old age the cannons would kill you then they bury you.. i was scared as HELL LOL

I used to believe…

For the biggest part of my childhood I believed that when a character in a movie died, the actor was actually killed. I always wondered where they found all the people so willing to end their life for entertainment?!?

I used to believe…

When my dog died when I was 6, my parents said I should bury her in an old jacket I used to wear so that she wouldn't get cold when she went to heaven.

I spent many a night looking out of my window after that, waiting to see my dog wearing my jacket, walking away from where we had buried her. I thought it odd that she had to be buried if she was going to be walking somewhere after she was dead.

I learned the truth eventually, but never regretted burying her in my jacket.

I used to believe…

I used to believe (when I was about 9 years old) that people that were announced dead in the news weren't dead for real (that it was make-up news). I only believed that people that died instantly (as in a car accident) were the only ones who really died. That was after I asked my aunt what was "died in the act"(translated literally from spanish "murió en el acto") and she explained that people who died that way, died in the instant the accident ocurred. That was when I assumed those were the only ones who died and people who were taken to the hospital and died was make-up news.

I used to believe…

My grandpa died when I was six. At his burial, my 11-year-old cousin tried desperately to convince me that Grandpa was in a jar and about to be buried underground. Only later did I learn that it was an urn and his body had been cremated. And that was hard enought to wrap my mind around!

I used to believe…

When I was a kid. We had a dog and one of her tricks waswhen someone said die to her she used to roll over on her back So I used to think this is the postion dead people would take was on their back with arms and legs in the air

I used to worry about Russia dropping bombs on us. I begged my parents for a canopy bed because I thought that the canopy would catch a bomb (that I thought were like cannonballs) and keep it from falling on me during the night.

i used to believe that the little metal stumbs that stuck out of the ground beside telepone poles were really leprocones grave because the stumbs were the shapes of little head stones.

I used to believe…

When I was in first grade there was a terible bus accident and the driver and one student from my school died. Everyone was talking about the visitation, when i asked what that was they told me that the dead people would be in a casket to see them. Well i heard casket and I thought basket.. sounded the same to me. I just couldnt believe that they would put a dead person in a basket so everyone could see.

I used to believe…

When I was around6 or 7 I heard my family talking about people who had died -- my mom said they "kicked the bucket". Asd a result I thought that anyone who kicked a bucket would die. I spent a whole summer getting up the courage to give it a try. One day I got one of my plastic buckets that I used to play with at the beach. I toold it itnto the back yard and set it down. For an hour I tried to summon my courage. I walked away and came back many times until I finally gathered up my nerve and ran full speed, as fast as I could, and I kicked that bucket as hard as I could and it went flying! I saw it go up, fall and hit the ground, bounce and land on it's side. I just stood there, and after a moment I realized I wasn't dead. I went into the house and explained to my Mom that I had kicked the bucket and asked her why I wasn't dead.

That was the first time I realized that everything your parents tell you isn't true.

I used to believe…

When my Uncle Ben died (although he wasn't really my Uncle Ben, he was a freind of the family)my brother and I thought that he was in the attic (or to get to him, we would have to go through the attic) and so we treid to get up there. We talked about making something out of string to get us up there, and I put some brie in a bag, so that we wouldn't starve. We never did get up there, and the brie was forgotten about until my brother smelt it. It was thrown out, and the bag was washed.
We also thought that to get to him, we had to fill our selves with air. We had a balloon pump, so I put the nosle in my brothers mouth (I let him go fisrt, incase somthing bad happend) and I pressed on the pump. it didn't work, and we were disapointed.