death: people

I used to believe that when people died their eyes turned into X's, like on the cartoons. Oh and I thought your tongue hung out when you died so every time I played dead I had my tongue out... lol

When we were little, my younger brother used to throw temper tantrums by throwing himself on the floor and just lying there motionless. The only way we could get him up was to say "Well, I guess he's dead. That means we have to bury him in the back yard now." at which point he would jump up off the floor, crying and begging us not to do it. He honestly thought we were going to bury him alive.

When I was about four my parents took me on a camping trip to Mt. St. Helens Park in Washington State. I saw a plaque that commemorated the spot where deep below the cooled lava it was believed that a car with some unfortunates that didn't escape the eruption in 1980 were to be found.
I used to believe that if we could only dig up the car (with the nice people in it) then my uncle (who was a doctor) would be able to bring them back to life. My parents never corrected me on the idea.

Back in high school i had to do a debate on "euthanasia" however never having heard the word before, thought my teacher said "youth in Asia". I spent 2 weeks working on a believable reason why youth shouldn't be allowed in Asia. The day of the debate i was so ready and well prepared that i told my teacher my group could go first. I realized my mistake only when the Chinese girl i was debating with ran out of the class crying.

When I was little I was terrified of dying so I decided that when I turned 20 (I thought this was the legal age at which you became an adult since 20 seems like a much more important number than 18) I would go to the North Pole and ask Santa Claus to make me immortal.

When I was little I saw a documentary about fungi and how they reproduce releasing spores, and how they decompose organic matter to get their nutrition.
I spent my whole childhood afraid of accidentaly breathing spores in and having a whole forest of mushrooms and other fungi growing inside my body, consuming it slowly from the inside out until I died.

As small children, my friend and I believed that when you die you must always lie flat on the ground, face up, arms straight out like a "T", with your eyes shut. It was impossible for people to die any other way.

When I was 2 years old my Grandmother died. I then would always ask my father.why did grandma die? He would tell me because grandma did not eat her vegetables. (I hated veg's). So from then on I would always try to eat my vegetables because I was scared that I would die.

When I was very little, I had an Aunt Minnie who was always very sick. She was near death at one point, and my mom suggested that I write her a get well card. Here's what I wrote: "Dear Aunt Minnie, I hope you did not die. If you did, please write me back soon. Love, Amanda"

I used to believe that anyone who died could be brought back to life by giving them electric shocks! I'd seen it on casulty on Tv once and was sure that it could always be done!

i always thought that people always died with their tongue hanging out

I used to believe that there was a small man living inside your chest and he had a stick and he would beat the inside of your chest. When he got tired after many years he would stop, and you would die because your heart had stopped. I remember this because the adults were discussing the death of someone, and they said that he had chest pains, and his heart stopped, and he died.

When I was younger, my grandmother kept a bowl of candy hidden and gave some to me whenever I came over. Well I happen to know where the candy was hidden, so one day when I was over at her house, I snuck some extra candy while she was upstairs. After she died a couple years later, I went to the funeral, but I was too afraid to go up close to the casket because I was worried she would punish me for taking the candy.

I used to believe that the streams left behind jets were people going to heaven.

when i was seven i formed the opinion it was imopossible to drown in chicken soup. how could you? you'd just drink it!

My father passed away when I was seven years old. I remember telling my mother after the funeral that we were all like God's Barbie dolls and when one of us broke we went home to him to get fixed.