Crashing Souls

Chapter 1

"I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times...

In life after life, in age after age, forever."

—Rabindranath Tagore, "Unending Love"

DEXTER

Chapter 1

I was in love the day I died. I remember gripping her hand in mine as life left my body. I heard her last breath before mine. And my final thought before I ascended was, Damn, I love this girl. And then I faded away.

I floated free. I was living within my mind, it seemed. It was euphoric; no boundaries. I couldn't see, I couldn't physically feel, and what earthly emotions I had were diminishing.

I was still disoriented. I felt a certain happiness within me but...I'm supposed to be with her. My memory, specifically of her, was beginning to dim. I held onto the image of her face with ferocity.

"Why? Why now?" I'd expected an echo. After all, my mind was this vast emptiness. Space upon space, my conscience did cartwheels.

I didn't receive a response. It was quiet and the quiet was maddening. I couldn't be alone. This couldn't be it for me. Her face filled my head. Her laugh tinkled on, and I could remember the distinct scent of her skin. All of these things left me with the need to beg.

"Send me back. I wasn't done!"

"You continue to hold onto her. Your memories should be faded by now. And yet..." a voice said through the darkness. "I've never seen this before. I've not responded to a human in a very long time."

Send us back. Please send us back.

As if he heard my thoughts, he went on. "Why should I not bring you to your maker? After all, the Angel of Death favors no human. And you aren't the first to come here, begging for mortality once more. Though I rarely acknowledge, I can still hear their pleas. Why do you beg? Your soul is tired. Let it rest."

"Tired? You—you're the Grim Reaper?" I asked.

"I have many names. Now, tell me. What makes you so special?"

I tried to think of something that would help my cause.

I hadn't lived a full life yet? No, children died tragically all the time.

I had been in love? No. I was sure there were older couples who still loved one another and died.

But I wouldn't let her go. Maybe they had, but I wouldn't.

"You've said that my memories should be gone and they aren't. I will never let her go. I—I'm damaged goods. I'll spend a lifetime, a millennium, still pining for her."

It was silent. Still, I didn't let my thoughts of her drift from me. It wasn't easy. But I had to do it. It was the only way I'd be able to get back to her.

I was losing the small details. Her scent was gone and her face, it was becoming a blur of features. But the idea, the essence of her, remained.

"I've spent too long in the darkness of grief." I knew he was flirting with the idea. I only wished he would make his decision, in my favor, quickly. I was barely holding on to her as it was.

It felt like an eternity. I was blind. Deaf, tasteless, nothing to touch. Everything was her. And yet, I worried beneath that façade of strength that I would forget her. Would he help me? Would I make it back to her? I was sure many asked. But I had to show him I was different.