Best Served Cold

Noises were blurred, like someone had shoved my surroundings into a blender and made it impossible to figure out what was what. Not to mention that my vision seemed to have completely dissapeared. I had no idea where I was or who was in the room with me, the only clear sound I could recognize was the nasal voice of Kimberly Timson from the news station.

"Engleline has suffered another loss of one of it's community members. Due to a drunk driving incident on the highway, young Bryony Eller was sent to the hospital last night and died early this morning." Kimberly did the fake little sniffle thing that she did everytime someone died. I'd like to think that I rolled my eyes, but I'm not sure if that is possible anymore.

It might have taken me a few moments, and I might still not know where I am but I know for sure that I am Bryony Eller and that according to Kimberly Timson I have kicked the bucket. Letting the new soak in for a minute was not an option because there was really nothing for it to soak into. 

My feelings- if I had them- were too numb to make sense of. It was like one second, I was confused but finding out the answers the next second just made it all more confusing. Who was I now? Besides the girl who got killed by some idiot. Was I a ghost? Was I just nothing? Why haven't I passed on yet? Was heaven real?

So many questions and no one to answer them. I vaguely remember what had happened when I was in the car. Mom was driving me home from my friend's house, then there was a flash of headlights and then nothing. Just nothing- except for someone screaming my name, probably my mom. 

"Mom." I whispered. I didn't know I could talk. 

"Your mother is okay, she's suffering minor injuries though." I didn't know someone could hear me. 

I imagined myself whipping around, turning to face the owner of the voice. The room appeared before me, as did an elderly man in a suit. He was more vivid then the rest of the  room, as if we were in a picture and the background was out of focus. 

"What the-" I started. 

"Do you watch movies, Bryony?" I nodded. Maybe if I just went with the flow things would make more sense. "Have you ever seen movies where somebody dies but never really leaves because of unfinished business?" I nodded again. "Well then, this should be easy- you have unfinished business. Good bye now!"

The man dissapeared without letting me ask anymore questions, but as quickly as the elderly man left a teenage boy took his place. "You get Maxwell? You look confused, of course you got Maxwell. Come on now." The boy looked around my age and cute except for a scar down the left side of his face. 

"Um, who are you?" I asked timidly. I may already be dead, but my mother taught me to never go anywhere with a stranger.

"Blake Tabet, now let's go. You only have a little bit of time." Blake walked out of the hospital room and snapped his fingers. "These people are the lucky ones. They've accomplished enough to make it here." Surrounding us were people with outstreched wings. Blake snapped his fingers again and we were back in the hallway. "But most of us don't get there when we first die. We have to finish something first. Do you have an idea of why you aren't up there?" He started walking towards the exit.

As short as it was, I couldn't think of anything that needed to be completed in my life. "Not a clue." I muttered.

"Well, Bryony, this may come as a shock for you, it came as a shock for me when I first heard about it, but you were just too nice."

I laughed, this must have been a joke or a test or something. "I was too nice to make it into heaven?"

"Well, yes and no. You could get to heaven right now if you really had your heart set on it, but the people up there think you deserve a little more than just that."

"Well what do they think I deserve?" I asked pushing the door open and walking outside. 

"You really want to know?" Blake asked, following me outside.

"Yeah."

"Revenge."