The End
We are driving along the highway then crash, bang, then nothing. No sounds, no sights. I can't feel my toothache, my back isn’t itching any more and toe has stop throbbing. My completely blank mind is tarnished by the advent of a thought: Am I dead? The sensory blackout is broken and I see a white wall.
No, not white but red, blue, purple, green, indigo, turquoise and every other colour and hue that my finite brain can conjure. I feel insignificant and ignorant for assuming that something that beautiful could be simply white, but then I am filled with the peace of knowing that it’s okay, it’s been done before and I glance up to see where that systematic and meticulous whirring is coming from.
There is a door. A big white door the colour of sun bleached driftwood. It is imposing, but all doors are meant to be opened, even this one. Behind the door, as far as the eye can see, are a vast network of golden gears, and a myriad of doors.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
I jump. The speaker is beside me, the largest person I have ever seen. She is easily nine feet tall, with curly hair that cascades down her back.
‘Who are you? Where I am? What is this?” is my barrage of questions.
She laughs, a big, comforting laugh that calms my heart’s staccato allegro.
“I am God. You are in Limbo. This is the Gateway.”
I cannot reply. Being told you are dead is not an easy pill to swallow.
“Come,” she says, offering a hand, which I take. As we walk, I struggle to regain my composure. “I’ve been agnostic my whole life. Am I going to Hell?” I eventually manage to ask. She chuckles shakes her head. “No, no Hell. Very few actually end up there, and even then not for long.”
“Heaven then?” I ask, hopeful.
Another chuckle.
“No heaven either. You humans used the concept of it to keep morality in check, but it was pure fantasy.”
“So all those religions were wrong? I mean, you’re a woman, is there no Jesus either?” Being dead now seems trivial compared to all this.
“Not completely wrong, most of Us are here, just some things got a bit lost in translation. Jesus, for instance was not my son,” she replies. “And in the human rewrites, you were prone to embellishments.”
“So where do we go when we die?”
“You go back.”
“Back?” I have lost my composure once more.
“Yes. If you make an impression enough times, we remove you from the cycle. The exceptionally good come here, and help with Limbo. The exceptionally bad go to what you would call Hell, and eventually we send them back to try again. We hope someday we will all be together.”
We’ve stopped in front of a door a shade of green more brilliant than I ever could imagine. She opens the door for me and releases my hand.
“Will I remember any of this?” I ask.
“Did you remember anything the last time?” she questions back. She places a kiss upon my forehead. “Goodbye child. Change your world.”
And with that I step towards the light.
how do you conjure up these things? your mind is a special place mayn!!!! how?? because this is just....idk i mean my brain,my mind does'nt do this...i want it to do this <3
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