The Watcher

"Is your life how you imagined it to be? Did you accomplish what you believe you were set out to do? Were you a good person? If not, do you want to be?
You need to decide because your time is almost up."

The imagery of death baffles humanity every day. No one knows what to make of it. No one has ever seen it and came back to tell those what they had seen. Is it made of white lights, and then absolute darkness? Pearly, golden gates, or scolding, orange flames? Is it a mirror image of life, but living the same day over and over again? Or is it possibly just an illusion? A mind trick?
We put those thoughts into the back of our minds so we don't have to think about it until we want to. We store them, where only the watchers can see. We show them the things we don't want to envision. The images and memories we don't want to regard. Our pain and our suffering get sent to them. We show them the things that remind us of death. No one will know what to expect until it's their time. Until then, we sit, wait and wonder.