For You

A Special Offer

I woke in the afterlife and I didn't even seem to care. I recalled the sudden flash of bright lights, followed by the eardrum shattering sound of screeching tires and breaking glass. Confusion and a state of complete chaos before an overwhelming sense of peace washed over me. The brother of a seven-year-old ballerina, child of a psychologist and businessman, beloved friend, just shy of reaching the proper age of adulthood; I knew I was dead. Nothing had yet been clarified, no explanations offered, but I knew in my heart that I was right.

     My seemingly perfect life cut drastically short, you would think I'd be angry. I should have been angry, but I appeared incapable of portraying such emotions, the nothingness surrounding me strangely peaceful. Inexplicably, I felt ready for the next stage of life. I suspected the feeling may have been imposed on me... But still I couldn't be troubled.

     Despite knowing the answer, I questioned the reassuring presence upon its return. "I'm dead, aren't I?"

     No words were spoken, but somehow my inkling was confirmed. A silent language conveyed only by feelings, a language I knew not I could understand, confirmed that I had indeed been the only fatality involving the car crash of my family's red Chevrolet SUV.

     "What now?" I asked calmly.

     "You'll follow me." A comforting hand was placed on my shoulder. I wasn't startled by the man's sudden appearance. "But... Not just yet."

     The raspy tone in the man's voice was familiar. Inhaling the smell of old spice shampoo and cheap cigars, I knew before turning, who I would come to face.

     "Grandpa," I uttered in disbelief. I hadn't seen him in years; hadn't heard his voice since I watched him take his last breath in that awful hospital bed.

     "I wish I could say it was nice to see you again." He smiled sadly.

     Free of his wheelchair, body strong and eyes alert as I had known him when he was healthy, he took a few steps forward before embracing me in a tight hug. Lingering in his arms a few moments longer than I usually would, when I reluctantly pulled away, I spun on my feet to study the blank room.

     There was nothing to see.

     "This isn't what I expected the afterlife to look like," I marvelled aloud.

     "You're not quite there yet."

     "What?" I spun around again. "Does that mean—"

     "No," he interrupted gently. "You're not in a coma that you can be woken from, or any situation of the sort. I'm afraid your body has passed on and nothing can be done to permanently bring you back."

     I frowned again and searched the white emptiness around me as if there I would find answers. As much as I tried, I couldn't phantom the purpose of my presence in this... nothingness. If my life was over, and there was absolutely no undoing it, shouldn't I have been moving on? If there was nothing left to settle, what was there to wait for? 

       Is there a waiting list to heaven? Assuming that is where I was heading... Perhaps this is where the decision of my faith would be made. For something of such importance, it was much plainer than I would ever have imagined.

     Familiar laughter startled my thoughts.

     "This isn't a waiting room," grandpa revealed, thin lips tugged upwards. "It's an illusion of what is to come. I can't say or show you much until you've either accepted or declined our offer."

     "Offer?"

     "Why don't you have a seat? This might take a while."

     My lips parted to remind him that we were surrounded by nothing, but the moment I did so, two leather sofa chairs appeared.