MARIEL

10~ Kingdom of Heaven ~

Mariel awoke with throbbing bruises on his body and a splitting headache. His legs hung over the arm of an old couch that was too small for the length of his body, and his arms were stiffly at his side as if he were - dead. Again. But, he wasn't. He had been dead, and he clearly remembered some of what had come to pass. As he lay in the small, dark living room that was only illuminated with the light of an eighties-style lamp with tacky design, the memories came in spurts. Jolting him. Surprising him. Drowning him with knowledge he, suddenly, wished he did not have.

February-something, 2018. To be fair, he could not remember all of the details.

He remembered the drive home, after making Esther cry. That was a horrible thing, watching her cry, watching her fall part. Seeing the hatred in Todd Caravan's eyes. Todd was a merciful man, but he had no mercy in his eyes that day.

Then, emptying all of his savings, he had purchased the gun and the ammunition. It was a nice one too. He wondered if it were somewhere in the dark, musty evidence room at the Chicago police department where shelves collected items from other cases. Honestly, at the time, he had not fully understood why he was purchasing the gun because, after all, he couldn't die. What was the gun for?

Back home, after Fr. Jerome had left to go to the coffee shop, he had paced the house. He had eaten a handful of Oreos. While his steps grew faster and his chewing also increased speed, Mariel had prayed. Begged. Attempted to bargain.

He had asked God to kill him... to at least let him die.

Mariel had cried in a corner. He had written texts to Esther, and then had deleted them. Then, abruptly, he felt dirty, unclean and, taking the gun, he went to take a shower. That was when he typed the note to his dad... just in case he could die, which he believed would not happen. Truly, he had not meant to assume his death would be allowed, but something kept his fingers moving and told him what to say.

Mariel turned on the music. Trap music. His dad hated trap.

He loaded the magazine, charged a round into the chamber, placed it on the toilet lid, and stepped into the shower. Then, he saw the messenger in the doorway, not dressed as the professor this time, but rather as a blurry, gray figure much like the humanoid... but less frightening.

'You may do it. This once.' The messenger had said. 'But understand that this is your only chance to negotiate. This is your only chance to have your path set clear for you. If you follow it, excellent. If you go against it, you are blatantly turning your back on God. Do you understand me?'

The water, pouring over his shoulders, had suddenly turned cold. There had always been a problem with the water pressure and temperature in this house, and he was unsure as to why he noticed it just now. 'I understand,' he had said, and reached for the gun.

He fixed the muzzle beneath his chin.

And pulled the trigger.

There were things about the Gates of Heaven Mariel could not remember. He was also sure that there were things he was not supposed to remember. What he did remember, however, was the moment he had opened his eyes in a place that was unlike anything he had ever experienced.

First, he felt an overwhelming sense of peace. Indescribable. It was strange, being disconnected from the human body with all its aches, pains, sensations, and emotional rollercoasters. Mariel felt happy. It was the first time he had felt truly happy.

Mariel had stood on some form of surface, he could not fully describe it, but it was white and misty. Behind him? White mist. In front of him? More white mist.