Untitled.

An unfinished story about the afterlife. Sort of. Young adult-ish! There are lots of things wrong with this and I have no inspiration to carry on really - but you know thoughts would be appreciated.

Death comes as a surprise, even to those who wanted to die. What comes after death is even more of a surprise. If you’re suicidal you’d be disappointed. If you didn’t want to die, you’d also be disappointed – but less. Life still moves on without you. People change and move on with their lives without stopping to think about the recently deceased and the only way you can be involved in that life is by sitting back and watching over the people that you love as they make their feeble human mistakes. There isn’t much you can do about it – apparently – when you’re dead.

 

The thirteenth of May 2009 at exactly 18:58pm.

My date and time of death. Not exactly the thing you want to remember when you’re dead but it’s the most prominent memory. No, that’s a lie. The ten minutes before your time of death is the most prominent memory. The worst and the best memory of my life…

 

“You know, you don’t have to be this stressed. They are just exams. This time next week when they are all over, you won’t care about them. Not at all”

I glanced over at my sister, Alex, who was driving and talking all at once. Her eyes never left the road as she spoke. She was always a careful driver.

I groaned at how casual she was about the prospect of me failing all my college exams and generally failing my life. “You say this now, but how do you know I wont be panicking for the rest of my life about whether I wrote enough about ‘Lexical Fields’ and flipping ‘Pragmatics’ or whatever?!”

Alex laughed and turned the radio on with her free hand. It annoyed me how little she cared and how much I cared. I was doing an exam the next day on English Language. I wasn’t confident and people where just brushing that fact off “Maddi you will do fine” they’d say “you always do fine.”

I sighed loudly to show my exhaustion with the topic and looked at the clock a habit that I did minutely because as much as it pains me to say, I was wishing my life away and watching and waiting for it to pass by. 18:53pm.

We were driving at a steady speed and I reckoned we would be home in less than ten minutes. Ten minutes of sitting in a car with my sister whilst she listened to rubbish, cheesy pop music on the radio. Ten minutes of thinking. Ten minutes I thought. Ten minutes and I would be home. What a joke.

18:54pm.

We turned around a corner at 40 miles an hour. Not exactly a fast speed but apparently too fast to stop straight away.

An old silver Rover was driving over 100 miles an hour down a road which led onto the road we where on. In less than two seconds it hit us.

I remember lying there waiting to die. Around me I could hear my sister screaming for help but knowing nobody was coming. The seat belt strangled my already broken body but I could not feel pain. I couldn’t feel anything. I was disappointed to find my life was not passing before my eyes. I expected a slideshow of memories to produce in my brain but realized maybe I wasn’t creative enough to think of such things. Or that my life wasn’t interesting enough to be watched.

I could see blurred red shapes rising higher and higher into the air. I heard my sister scramble out of the car, shouting but not making any sense. I could smell oil and petrol.

The last thing I saw was the car clock. It took a while for my eyes to focus. 18:58pm. Then, everything just went black.

 

 

Death, isn’t like it is in movies. Your soul doesn’t watch what is happening, you can’t watch your body burn to a crisp or watch your sister screaming and crying. You just have to put up with the darkness. A darkness I thought I would never come out of. I thought death was just death. That after death there was nothing.

I didn’t expect death to be so annoying.

I didn’t expect death to be so…dark.

It seemed to be dark for a long time. Days, Months, Years. Not that it mattered, I wasn’t going anywhere. I waited for a bright light to lead me from the darkness but there was nothing. More than anything I just wanted to properly die, I hated having all of my thoughts and feelings but not having a body to express them in. I didn’t know what was happening, it was just a continuous stream of blackness and all of my lifeless thoughts colliding into each other.

 

I guess you could say that I ‘woke up’ from the darkness around four months after my death. It was the weirdest sensation. Suddenly I had eyes again and I could see. I had hands and feet which I could move. I had a body and a mouth. I could function. I was alive, but I wasn’t. It was the strangest thing.

And it hurt like hell. Realizing I was awake I automatically screamed from the pain. It was like I hadn’t moved in years and suddenly all my bones where back and my muscles wouldn’t function properly. Almost like being numb for such a long time and then having intense pins and needles. I didn’t expect pain in the afterlife.

“She’s a screamer” I heard someone laugh. It shocked me to hear another person’s voice and I instantly stopped screaming and scanned my eyes trying to figure out where I was.

“Well what do you expect? It’s a horrible thing, dying you know. Actually not that you would know. You haven’t even been born yet”

My head in confusion. I could hear these words but they made no real sense, they were just words without meaning to me and that was truly terrifying.

Around me was strange. Everything was light and at first it burned my eyes so much that I felt the need to close them again, but that would mean the world went dark again so I put up with the pain of the light. Everything around me was beautiful but it wasn’t anything in particular.

Where am I?” I stuttered not expecting an answer to my stupid question. Who was I kidding I knew where I was. Where else would it be ridiculously light and pretty, where else would I end up after death?

What a dumb question” someone snorted. I turned around to face two people starring down at me. A boy and a girl around my age smiled at me. Both of them looked exactly the same. Red hair, blue eyes, pale skin. I remembered what one had said about the other not being born and was so bewildered that I almost fell back down again.

The girl laughed. “Are you okay sweetheart?” she asked. I nodded foolishly. Clearly I wasn’t okay. “Good. I’m Fiona and this is Phillip” she smiled “and this” she lifted her hands and pointed at the surroundings “Is death. Or before life if you’re like my brother here”

I didn’t want to speak so I just listened and stared at the two beautiful strangers who stared back with expressionless faces.

“You could just, you know, speak to us” Phillip growled his eyes becoming darker. He was clearly upset with my lack of communication. Fiona punched him in the stomach with her elbow and giggled.

He is an idiot, I know, but he doesn’t understand” she apologized. I nodded my head and looked down at my bare feet.

 

 

 

 

The End

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