Afterlife's Portrait

A Short Story

I ran as I tried to find them. I tried to call out with not enough breath to even try. Then when it caught me and I caught their fearful eyes, I shouted my final words: Survive! They ran as the thing tore me apart. Thankfully the pain wasn't really there, I didn't feel my limbs get thrown to the sides like waste as it tore its way into my very being. At least it looked like so, the lack of blood and major exhaustion made it hard to concentrate on anything. I closed my eyes hoping that they weren't watching the scene. It'd probably be more horrifying for someone who could concentrate on the uncanny thing eating my alive... what was it again?... I probably should... go.. to bed... yeah, that would be... nice....

...

...

...

...?

...um...

...huh...?

....

I dared to open my eyes unsure if I even could. I'd hear theories of ghosts and ghouls to the afterlife and heaven but I wasn't sure which one was real. So, with all the will I had, I opened my eyes to the scene before me: void. So the afterlife was a pocket dimension after all, I joked mentally, maybe they really were god if they knew what the afterlife was; or dead, I could've been friends with a ghost!

...Could I speak? I tried and failed to even make a squick. Annoying, I mentally grumbled, How was I supposed to ask where I... actually there isn't anyone here to even hear me so who could I even ask, what could I even ask. At that moment something simple came to me, I'm not sure to this day what it was, the fact I hadn't recovered from my death, or that it was something divine like a god; but I just wished to fill the void I existed within with something. It was the place I -possibly, haven't gotten any concrete answers- would spend the rest of my infinite days. It'd be boring to spend all of my existence here in an endless void. So, I thought at that moment, What can I do? I'm no omnipotent being, could I ask for something? Maybe a canvas and some paint.

At the thought, I got reminded of the sky, oh yes the never ending array of endlessly changing colors. The fearful beauty of change always seemed to amaze me in different ways. The thing that me and they would bonding about before. Suddenly, my peripheral vision detected an object. I swiftly turned to see a canvas and a whole painters set, brushed, papers, water and paint. Huh, I thought quickly, Where did that come from? I hesitated slightly when it came to actually touching it. When, how did it get there? When I actually touched it the set felt more new than new which confused me even further. Was I supposed to do something? Was it like those coma situations? Then I remembered that weird event from before I got here, right, this was the afterlife. That or I went into a self induced coma and are in a hospital right now. Don't know which one is grimmer. I looked back at the empty canvas, If this was the afterlife-or a coma still haven't decided which- might as well do what I like.

I started painting anything that came to mind, first it was a lively setting sky then I added a cliff for perspective, a forestline a little off into the bottom corners of the canvas and cliff, then buildings started to show as I painted one in the farther back. I wasn't the best painter in all reality -not even a good or dedicated one- but gosh darn if I'll be dead then I might as well call myself good at it. I went to try and paint some lighting only for the white to smear all over the building instead of only the window. Already knowing that my cheeks have dusted pink -can they even do that if they don't have blood?- that thought stopped me in my tracks. Can I even blush if I don't have blood to make my face redder? I shake off the idea, if I wanted to look red then I could -hopefully- will some makeup into being. That or paint myself with red or pink paint very ineffectively.

I step back from what I've made, the cliff, the forest-edge, the starlit sundown, and the proud city in the middle of said canvas. I doubted that any animals would live near such a place, most small areas don't even have tall concrete buildings most of the time, at least the ones near natural forests don't. Well maybe, I haven't traveled the whole Earth so maybe. I hummed silently, its enigmatic beauty stood before me as I finished my final touches. What else does a painter do after this? I looked towards the corners for answers. Of course! How could I forget? I write my name into the bottom left corner with my dominant hand.

"I wish I could see this physically." I murmured softly. I could imagine the soft breeze that blew around my hair as I stared down from the cliff. I closed my eyes, imagining myself in serene-like silence. I closed my eyes to take in the deeper appreciation. The calm chirps of far away birds filled my ears as I dismissed it in favor of feeling the cooling breeze. Just as the setting suns we had seen so many times before. I opened my eyes just to jump backwards in utter confusion. What - was my first thought - how am I just here physically now? Am I alive again? Did I manage to hold a metaphoric middle finger towards the laws of the universe? I took a step forward to realize I made no noise. Lovely. I'm officially a unrestfull spirit. I look upwards again realizing the tension in my intangible body. It's just like my painting. Did I just will this into reality? The world is a big place I might just have teleported to a place like my painting.

I simply sat down on the grassy floor and smiled. A work of art. I was glad I could see this-even if I was dead. I smiled softly to myself and proceeded to prepare to stargaze like all the other times. I couldn't wait to see them again and show them what I made. I glanced at the similar yet not identical depiction of my portrait and smiled.

At least she got to do one simple desire: Paint the sky.