So have you ever wondered, what happens after we die? I remember when I was seven I asked my mom that same question, the night my father died and she gave me the usually speech about heaven and hell, and how daddy was in a better place and told me not to worry, you know the usual mom stuff. And I believed every word she said, I believed there was a magical place in the sky were you meet all your dead relatives and didn’t have a worry or care in the world, and that there was also an evil dark place underground were you spent all eternity being tortured. And as I say again I believed all this, notice how I said believed. I believed this to be true, until ten years after my father died. On a cold and wet September afternoon I went to visit his grave. And there I met Isabel.