After They Die At The End

🕙 Part 1 - Chapter 3

(Photo credit to Pinterest https://pin.it/29Jcrb1)
Mateo
I notice the movie theater doesn't seem much different than mine, before hearing her voice.

"M-Mateo?? Is that you..?" She says. I look up, hearing her come down from where she was seated for I don't even know how long. I pick up my pace, walking faster to where I'm going to meet her. Finally.

She gets downstairs and smiles softly when she sees me. She has the same tone of tanned skin as I do, soft hazel eyes, and wavy hair that drops to her shoulders. We walk towards each other, still not having said any words. She wraps me in a tight hug, and I hug her back.

"You've grown so much..." she says. We part away from the hug.

"I mean, yeah, I guess I have," I reply.

The last time she saw me, I was still in her belly, and I'm sure it might be quite the surprise to see your own son for the first time in person (to some extent) when he is already eighteen years old! I have so many questions, and now I can get some answers to them.

"It feels like just yesterday I was giving birth to you," she says, "Now come on inside so we can talk some more, and so I can get to know my son,"

She held my hand as we walk further inside. The setting, which I thought would look the same as mine, looks more like an apartment with openings to rooms and a living room and a kitchen. I look back at where I entered and realize that it changed suddenly and it's like a hallway with elevator doors at the end. The portraits I saw outside are now hung up on the walls in the living room as we walk together to talk by the couch. It's comforting, and different how nice this is. Maybe this was how the apartment looked like when she lived with Dad.

"Now let me take a good look at you," she says, making me laugh a little, "Guess this is how my handsome boy turned out! And, how old are you?"

"Uhm, I'm eighteen," I admit. She's surprised to hear, it's probably not what she expected. She sits down on the couch. I just hope she doesn't feel resentful about how I having lived little, but it's not really like I had a choice. I knew I was dying on September 5th.

"Eighteen....? Did, did something happen? Were you sick?" She asks. I sit down beside her on the couch, now having to explain how this came to be. Since I was about 11 when Death-Cast came out, I think explaining what it is to her might help too.

"That's the thing, I was completely fine," if you disregard the fact that I was staying up late that night wasting another day, "but there's this new thing that exists that calls you on the day you're going to die and let's you know that you have twenty-four hours to enjoy it, knowing that at some point in the day you would pass away,"

"How do they even know?" She interrupts. I don't mind the question, though I honestly have no idea.

"I think no one really knows, but it's true that it works. I was cautious the whole day and still died at the end," I continue, "I may or may not have burned to death making, well, tea,"

I hold my teacup up. Mom had made some (I'm assuming) and set out a teacup for each of us on the coffee table in front of us. Mom seems worried about that, as she draws a hand to her mouth.

"Buuut, I still had an amazing last day overall, and really became who I wanted to be before going- passing- coming here? You know what I mean,"

"How did your father react?"

"He didn't actually, but I left him a note" I say, getting a confused look in return, "He's in a coma,"

My mom grips tightly to my hand, "I'm sorry, for not being there,"

"It's not your fault, mom, I know that," I respond. We have a small moment of silence.

Trying to make the conversation lighter, I begin to ask her about how her life was and why she didn't say "yes" to marrying my dad two times before he proposed again when she found out she was pregnant (turns out she still wanted to get to know my dad a bit more, and was playing hard to get), and some basic things as well like what's her favorite color, if she liked cooking or baking, you know, the things one usually knows about their mom.
Back on earth, me and Dad did talk about mom here and there, but ever since I was a little kid, I could tell it wasn't the easiest topic to talk about with him. He loved me with all the fatherly love he had, but he missed Mom's company and wished she were there to see me grow and help him out. I knew a few things about her and a bit about how she died, but I began avoiding the topic a bit since I noticed he usually felt sad afterwards.

I then tell her how we would visit her grave on her birthday, and Dad would go on mine in the morning when I was still sleeping and we had someone over to look after me in case anything happened while he was away. It seemed to warm her spirit.

She turns the TV on, and asks me if I wanted to see some moments from her own life with a little more detail, and I definitely do!

"Now I want to see a bit of yours afterwards," she smiles at me.

I nod a little, then realizing how my life went. I don't want her to already be disappointed in me for not having had the most "achieved" life when we've only just met each other..... Maybe I can show her only the best parts, and the ones I feel most comfortable sharing for now. I have a few other things I would still like to ask her, but about how living in the afterlife works this time. Like, how does time work? How can we see other spirits who are dead? How does this "Memory TV" work, exactly? Why does the scenario change for each person?

I refocus my attention to what my mom is explaining as I look at the screen in front of me, seeing how my mom's life was until my birth.

(1111 words in)