Maybe Tomorrow

Epilogue - Charlotte

There is a moment in your life where death is introduced to you. Whether it is through knowing about the historical events that had happened or someone you are close to passes away.

No one will ever tell you what happens after you leave the world of the living. Because no one knows what really awaits you when the fire inside your soul gives out.

Will you go to heaven where you'll live in between clouds? Will our souls meet with our creator? Will we see all the saints we have read about or prayed to when time got tough?

You wonder perhaps some philosophers could be right. There are a number of theories made each and every year but there is no way to prove them right or wrong because for that to happen, you would have to die and wake up once again to tell the story.

There were some fortunate people whose hearts gave out for minutes and by some miracle they were sent back down to Earth as their time wasn't right yet.

My time came to an end much earlier than I would have expected. Except I am not between the fortunate percentage of people and my soul can never get back into my body again. There has yet to be an operation made up where you can be brought together when you get beheaded – all the pieces of you – and you get to live again as if the parts of your body were never separated in the first place.

And somehow, I still wake up.

As soon as my eyes open I know this awakening is different from all of my others I lived through each morning.

Gasping, I spring up from the position I have appeared in, looking for an intake of breath like it has been ages since I took my last.

I put a hand to my chest, trying to calm down the tightness in my chest. Once my breaths even out, I look around to take in my surroundings and the endless green around me.

Am I...in a forest? What kind of reality have I gotten myself into?

Trees envelope the entirety of the land where I found myself on. My green skirt almost blends in with the moss underneath my legs. Which puts in another question - why am I wearing riding clothes? Or what normal people perceive as daily clothes.

Getting up to my feet, I straighten the wrinkles in my clothes before I look around once again and decide to move.

My feet shift against the soft ground, the flat shoes almost non-existent as I feel every little bump on the ground, the soil under me creating the perfect shape of my feet as I step on it. I feel the fallen twigs from the trees snap under my weight as I head in the direction I am being pulled towards.

And that's when I hear not only the sounds of nature but also it. The faintest tunes of the loveliest melody.

The music.

I hear it clearly as if it was the only sound that existed.

The soft sound of a piano.

I hurry towards it, slowly transforming my walk into a frantic run as the sound gets closer and closer. The sound of my feet thumping against the ground fades into the background as I listen to the familiar tune of a song I heard before. But the last time I heard one of those tunes was when it was played by a beautiful woman with dark skin, brown eyes and soft braids in her hair while she sat behind the instrument.

By my woman.

It takes me a few seconds, the music nearing. Until I catch sight of a large white door. In the middle of the forest. In the middle of nowhere.

The music keeps on playing while I stare at the door, thinking of all the possible meanings this could have and contemplating what I should do. But deep inside me, I know what is waiting for me behind the large door.