I died

Date: 4/19/2020

The dream started with me dying. I was in my family’s house when suddenly my throat and lungs felt constricted. I went to my room to try and get my inhaler but going up the stairs made it worse; then all of a sudden my heart started beating so fast and so hard I literally thought it was going to break out of my chest and tear my skin, I looked down and saw it beating against me. My entire chest shook with every beat, to a rhythm that grew more and more unsteady every second. Suddenly my throat closed fully, I couldn’t breathe and my chest hurt from my heart beating so fast. I wanted to call for help but couldn’t move, couldn’t talk. Couldn’t make any sound. My legs crumpled beneath me, my arms went numb. My vision blurred so bad I thought for a second that my contacts fell out but then it got blurrier and started wiggling, like everything was a giant mirage. I fell to the ground and grabbed at my throat; and then I died. At first I was scared, thinking what if I was in hell or something, because everything was dark. But then I opened my eyes and saw something right in front of me; wood. It was so dark I could barely make it out. I went to sit up and suddenly felt my stomach lurch as I accidentally pushed myself higher than I had meant to, and dirt crumbled on top of my face before I saw sunlight streaming all around me. I went to push myself up and again, went higher than intended; I ended up launching off of the ground and into the air. All around me was a graveyard. I go to walk over to a grave and that’s when I realize I don’t have legs. I look down and see nothing. I try to put a hand in front of my face but don’t see anything; I FEEL my hand flexing in front of where I’m looking, but nothings there. Then I try walking to a grave again- I move, somehow, although my steps feel smoother and somehow lighter. I ‘walk’ to the grave and crouch to see the stone. My stomach drops. It has my name on it, and dates- when I was born and when I died. There’s flowers behind the grave, beautiful red roses and tulips and other, smaller flowers, like bleeding hearts, but they’re wilting a little already. I go to touch a flower gently and my hand passes through it. I furrow my brows (or at least, I felt myself furrow my ‘brows’ that no longer existed) and try to touch it again. Nothing. For a few minutes I try to touch the flower- first I flew my hand, hard, as if it’ll help, then I try going at it from different angles. Finally, starting to get mad, I swipe quickly at it, almost casually, and the flower falls from the bouquet. I try doing it with the other flowers, and find that, although it’s difficult, I can still sometimes move things. I can’t manage to pick any up yet, although I get close. Then I stand up and floor around. I recognize the graveyard I’m in. But before I can do anything or go anywhere, I feel a slight pulling at my core and I’m dragged into the coffin by an invisible force. When I open my eyes for the second time, I’m in a big open grass field. All around me, there’s war. I look down and I can see myself again; I’m wearing all black except for a clear crystal necklace. I look around again and notice a few things. The war is between several sides; each different side has a differently colored necklace. There’s red, blue, purple, green, yellow, black, and pink, but no clear (like my necklace) anywhere. The second thing I notice is that almost everyone here is older than me. Most seem to be forty or older- and a good majority of them are old. Some are completely ancient looking, but everyone moves around as if they have unlimited energy and are not handicapped by their age at all. I spot maybe one or two other kids my age, and a few younger ones. I also notice that nobody seems to really die. They all charge at each other, swiping and brawling and screaming and some even have strange weapons, but once a person is ‘killed’ their body shimmers and they reappear back where they started from, in some unseen base. I step tentatively out of the little clearing I’m in, the opposite direction from the main fighting, which is all below me. Then, a man speaks from somewhere. “It’s always surprising to find someone as young as you here.” I turn and don’t see anyone. Then I turn around again and suddenly I’m in a normal living room setting, except the walls are eerily blank. Not white, per-se, but rather just completely devoid of color. It’s impossible to explain. There was a slightly worn red velvet couch behind me, and I wanted to sit down but didn’t know whose house this was so I didn’t want to be rude. As if reading my thoughts, the voice says, “take a seat, child.” I sit down and turn to my right, looking for the source of the voice. When I turn my head back I see a man to my left. It’s the man who played death in SPN, only with shorter, grayer hair and baby blue eyes that almost seemed blind- except he could clearly see. “You’re death?” I ask, unsure. “Some people take a while to realize it,” he responds somewhat sadly. I nod, then say, “what next?” “I always take the time to explain as much as I can to newcomers,” he says slowly. “After I’m done, I’ll take you back to where you just came from and you’ll know what to do.” I nod again, and watch him, perplexed. I don’t particularly feel too sad- I miss my family, my friends and especially my cats, but somehow any idea of going back seems repulsive to me now. Death folds his long, spidery hands in his lap, and starts explaining. “You died of a cardiac arrest. It was caused by a rare disease that you currently don’t have a name for. Your family found you ten minutes after you had died. The funeral was held on a beautiful day.” I nod uncertainly. “Oh,” is all I say. I think back to the symptoms I’d had before I died and it makes sense. Quietly he says, “it’s a shame. I always feel tempted to bring children back up- they don’t deserve to be here yet. But I know I cannot.” He continues after a short pause. “This is neither heaven nor hell, and not anything in between. It is what your race has made it to be. Many people try to make it out to be what they want- they tell themselves it is heaven or hell, or purgatory, or whatever dimension they dreamed up while still alive. Believe what you will.” I nod. Then he glances down at his watch, which has no face at all, and then looks back up at me. “I will try to explain the so-called ‘rules’ of this place to you, but it will have to be summarized. I have lots of souls to tend to.” “Okay.” He sighs. “You saw the fighting down the hill, correct? You’re a smart girl. What do you think of it?” I chew my lip, thinking. Then I say, “the people were fighting in what seemed to be ‘teams’... they had different colored necklaces, and the different colors seemed to be pitted against each other in some type of war. And since we’re technically still souls, I’m guessing the teams are chosen based on our personality or auras or something.” He smiles, showing crooked teeth. “Yes, you’re very close. It really is a shame, such a clever girl like you. I always take a liking to those who can stay calm and curious right after death.” He looks at his watch. “But, yes, you were mostly right. This place is, in your terms, a war zone. And the different colors are pitted against each other. However their colors are not necessarily based on personality or aura; they are based on the purest, strongest beliefs of the soul.” I nod, trying to absorb as much information as possible. I was finally finding the answers to questions people spend years trying to grasp while alive; the least I could do is pay attention. He taps his fingers together. “There is red, blue, purple, green, yellow, black, and pink. Each has different views. Blues strongly believe in cooperation and laws over morality. They follow any ‘rules’ or ‘terms’ to the letter, even if it is morally wrong. They think societies need strict rules to survive, and that everyone must put in equal work. They tend to strive for knowledge. Yellows, on the other hand, are almost opposite. They believe that morality should be held as a one and only ‘rule,’ and that a person should always do what is right, even if it means disregarding any rules or laws. They tend to strive for peace. Reds are slightly more free. They believe in freedom and free will; they think everyone should be able to do what they want, when they want, whether it’s disregarding rules or even morality- they don’t care so long as everyone is free. They can sometimes be violent. Purples are slightly more complicated. They strongly believe in following rules, but if the rules are extremely immoral, they give an exception. They tend to be a smaller group. They generally strive for harmony between people, and equality, although this can lead to a lot of conflict. Greens have very strict beliefs. They don’t necessarily follow laws or morality; instead, they have a ‘something’ that they follow to the word. Usually religion, but it can be a lot of things. Obsessions. Parents’ advice, for some children. Whatever it is, they follow every word of it, even if it breaks laws or is immoral. They strive to have their ‘something’ heard and accepted, and generally set strict goals for themselves which they plan out and quickly set towards. Pinks are slightly a mix, like purple. Pinks believe that you should always be moral, but more importantly, they believe in forgiveness. If someone is immoral, but later changes and strives to be better, pinks are okay with that. They strive for happiness, and similarly to purples, they also strive for equality. Finally, there’s blacks. You might think of them as a ‘miscellaneous’ group. Blacks are people who do not know who they are- who fit into none of the categories because they haven’t found their beliefs or goals. They can be people who died young, before they had a chance to discover themselves, or they can be older people who suddenly change their mind about certain beliefs and don’t know where to go from there. Blacks include a lot of different characters, and a lot of children like you.” He takes a breath. “Did you understand all that?” I nod. “Well, the way people are sorted to different factions- that’s what they’re called- is simple. They appear in a room with several items, and whichever item they choose determines their fate. This means that, ultimately, it’s up to you. Even if you feel attracted to one item, you can grab another and go to the other item’s faction instead. However this happens rarely and when it does, the unlucky souls tend to exist in unhappiness and discontent for eternity.” I scowl, trying to memorize everything he’d said. “Okay.” “Now, before I go, I know you must have questions. I allow every soul to ask me any question and I will attempt to answer it. People ask about life and death, about the souls here, about the planet and universe and even about me. So, you may ask.” He stares at me. I think. Then I say, “so I can ask a question about you?” He looks tired. “Yes.” “Well, I actually was wondering-“ Before I can continue he cuts me off and starts talking sadly. “I actually am death, and as for a god, I do not know. I am not god, certainly, I don’t even know if there is one. I do not have an age, as I existed before time itself and will exist afterwards. There are no other people like me, that I know of. And no, it’s not possible to go back. I can’t take you to the world of the living without facing consequences.” I shake my head. “Um, actually, I was going to ask for a story.” He blinks. “A story?” “Yeah. I mean, you’re DEATH. You’ve probably seen amazing lives- or I guess deaths- and awesome souls! So, I dunno, I just would like to hear about something really cool. Maybe a particular soul that stuck in your mind.” He smiles. “Well, there was one girl I remember very clearly. She clung to the living world almost as long as you did, which was more impressive considering she didn’t have a body to help ground her. When she came here she demanded to see her gods. I told her that they did no exist to my knowledge and she said, ‘your knowledge of those things is as limited as mine.’ Then, when I reminded her that I was death and that I perhaps deserved some respect, she replied with, ‘I am now well-acquainted with death. Our souls have no purpose for you. Your only purpose is to help us and to bring us here. That places me above you when it comes to leadership. You’re at the bottom.’” He laughs. “And when she entered the room of items, she managed to somehow grab two at once. Her crystal was two colors and to this very moment she fights on both sides.” “How did she grab two at once?” I ask, awed. “I have no idea. This entire place was fabricated from the human mind. I know just as much about it as you do.” He glances at his watch and says, “I really must get going, but I think you deserve to know that I really want to bring you back to the land of the living. You could have done great things, I think.” I feel a little sad but brighten as I realize I’ll probably be able to find my grandma. “Thank you, mister Death sir,” I say. He smiles and I blink, and when I open my eyes I’m in a room made of the same voided, colorless, almost-white stuff. Underneath of my feet primitive paints of all colors spiral outwards, and different strands of color separate and connect to seven podiums. At first they’re empty, but then items start to appear. First there’s a heavy tome, who’s cover changes between different titles, some old and some new. On the second podium there’s a violin- or at least I think. But it occasionally flickers and I catch a glimpse of some other random instrument. On the third, there’s a simple black stone. It’s small, the size of a pea or maybe bigger, and smooth. It doesn’t flicker or change at all. It’s just a stone. On the fourth there’s a pretty looking knife, with a handle of bone or maybe white plastic and a blade made of iridescent metal. But the blade, too, flickers, and I catch glimpses of various other weapons- a mace, a sword, a glock, a bomb- before it comes back to its original state, and then flickers again and on and on. The fifth has a beautiful golden flower, which emits soft sunlight from the petals. The petals open and close and the flower changes shape as it does so, and the color of the inside of the petals changes too. The sixth has a simple locked box, but the box rattles and snarls and hisses and roars and makes all sorts of sounds. The top of it is engraved with a beautiful, swirly question mark on it. On the sixth podium, there’s a twisting hourglass that has a yin/yang symbol on either side. In the center there’s a strange blue aura, and the sand is flowing backwards, never ending. The aura seems to pulse with strange, almost technological power. The final podium, behind me, has a crucifix on it, attached to a gold chain. But as I watch it flickers slightly and I see other things; lists with rules, the Star of David, an upside-down cross; and the cross starts to fade a bit. I feel an attraction to the flower and the black stone at first- which is funny because they’re almost opposites. Light and dark, changing and still. But as I go to look closer at the flower and stone I stop, because suddenly I’m drawn to the book again with its promise of knowledge- there were so many titles there, I could potentially read a story as old as the invention of writing itself! And then my gaze finds its way to the locked box and curiosity makes me stop and consider this too, because I have this strong desire to go and unlock it, to cure my curiosity, to find out what’s inside. And then I turn and look at the violin and think, what kind of world would I be happy in if it didn’t have music? And I glance over at the hourglass and a mix of curiosity and the thirst to find out what it is and how it works overcomes me. My mind goes to the worst-case scenario where time doesn’t exist in this new war zone of a world, because it goes for eternity. A way to keep track of time is a way to keep sane, to feel in control of something, at least. My eyes even flick to the cross, where years of childhood memories of being taught and growing up Christian cross my mind- even though I’m not as strictly Christian as some others, a few of the core beliefs have stuck with me. Suddenly I’m torn, but I have to choose. And then I think, no I don’t. Death’s words come back to my mind: he knew just as much about this room as I did. He didn’t know what it was capable of, and neither did I. This room was created by the human race. Maybe it could be changed by them, too. I look around and try to come up with a plan that would allow me to grab all of the items at once. I decide I’d have to lower the number, and reluctantly drop the cross, then the hourglass, and even then it seems too impossible. I study the ground, thinking hard. Then I stop. I study the ground more. The rainbows of color swirl everywhere- I can see reds, oranges, yellows, greens, blues, purples, pinks, even blacks and whites- if there’s a color it’s here. I crouch down and rub my fingers over the paint, lightly. It’s dried to the floor. I work up a wad of spit in my mouth and then spit onto the paint. Cautiously I dip my pinky finger in. Workable paint stains my finger. From there I work carefully, coating every finger and palm in a different color. I’d have to smear them over my crystal all at once, and hopefully it’d be the equivalent of grabbing all the items at the same time. When I have the entire rainbow meticulously lined up on my fingers, I grasp the crystal tightly and rub my fingers along it. There’s a space in between my middle finger and ring finger, but I decide it’s fine since the clear part goes well with the rainbow theme of my crystal. Then, when nothing happens right away, I quickly dab some black on either end. I wait, and nothing happens. I start to worry that maybe I’d have to find a way to grab them all anyways, but then the crystal glows. I feel it grow warm on my chest, and then it grows hot. It glows brighter, and the colors stain the light to make it sparkle everywhere, sending rainbows off in every direction. Soon it’s so hot it’s stuck to my chest, but it doesn’t hurt. Rather, it fills me with exultation. I feel my heart beat once, hard, and memories come back from the day I died. I remind myself that I’m dead now, I can’t die again, and my fear drains away. My heart beats three times, hard. Then it beats thrice, faster. Then three times, and three times again, until it’s beating so rapidly that I feel my heart beats in the crystal. I look down and the paint has disappeared from the outside of the crystal, leaving it stained beautifully in a gradual shift from red, at the top, to pink, at the bottom. Then I blink and suddenly I’m back on the hill. I start to feel excited until I realize what I’ve done to myself. Would any faction except me knowing that I was also, technically, all of the other factions? I chew on my lip and walk along the edge of the forest to my left, avoiding any open plains or fighting. I decide that I’d try and find the pink ‘base’ or the black ‘base’ first, since those were my initial favorites. As I’m walking I hear voices. I freeze, then leap behind a tree, and just in time. Two pinks, a middle aged Chinese woman and a girl about my age dressed in tribal-like clothes, come around the corner, talking in hushed voices. I realize this is my chance and step out from behind the tree. “Um, hello,” I say. They both whirl around and I see the woman has drawn a knife. The girl has her hand hovering over her back pocket. Their eyes go from my face to my crystal, them crinkle in confusion. “Uh, I was just-“ “Silence!” the girl my age barks. My hands shoot into the air on instinct and I shut my lips tightly. The woman says, “I’m going to ask you some questions, and if you don’t answer truthfully, I’ll kill you. Try anything, and I’ll kill you.” The simplicity with which she says it makes me go cold. She says, “what the hell did you paint your necklace for? Which faction are you really?” I shake my head and say, quietly, “it’s not paint... I’m, um, I’m really indecisive, so I ended up choosing everything...” Her eyebrows shoot into the air. “Liar,” snarls the girl. “You honestly think we would believe that? Tell us which faction you are or we’ll take you back to our base and torture it out of you!” I feel my eyes widen and I say, on instinct, “sorry...” They stare at me and I blush and add, “I’m not lying, you can check for yourself. But please, don’t take my necklace. I’m having a bad enough time with it, I don’t know what I’d do without it.” The woman exchanges a glance with the girl so I add hopefully, “and please don’t kill me? I’ve died recently already.” “We’ll see about that,” the girl says. She’s drawn a pretty looking knife. The woman comes over to me with her knife still raised. Then she peels the necklace from my shirt and stares at it, rubbing the smooth surface with her thumb. She pulls it over to the sunlight, dragging me along with it while still holding her knife threateningly close to my throat, and holds it against the light. The rainbows I’d seen earlier shine and dance all over the forest floor and the trees. “I think it’s real,” the woman says to the girl. “Can I put my hands down now?” I ask, because they’re starting to hurt. “Not yet,” the girl says. “We have more questions.” I sigh and say, “okay.” The woman speaks again. “How old are you?” “I’m fifteen,” I say. “Or, maybe sixteen, since my birthdays in three days. Or I mean, it was.” The two exchange a glance again and the girl asks, “which item did you choose? Or which items? How did you get them all?” I blush again. “Um, well I said I was indecisive, and I was kind of trying to choose between a flower and a black pebble, but then I didn’t want to choose out of any of them so I went to the paint on my floor and used it to paint the crystal myself.” “Paint on the floor?” “You know, the spirals of rainbow paint that coats the floor? Each spiral of colors goes to a different podium?” The girl shakes her head. “The room is different for everyone. The floors are different, the items are different, even the podiums can be different.” “Oh,” I say. “Well, my floor had dried paint making these beautiful spirals across the floor. So I spit and used the new paint to color my crystal.” “And it worked?” asked the woman. I shrug. “Humans like me made this world, so I figured, why can’t I change it?” The woman backs away from me and the girl says, “you can put your hands down, but if you try anything, I’ll still kill you.” “Thank you,” I say, and drop my arms to my sides, massaging them one at a time. The girl and the woman whisper to each other for a few minutes. Then the girl says, “if you’re really every single faction, what are you doing here?” “I just got here,” I explain, “and I didn’t know where to go, so I tried to stay out of trouble. But I was thinking about trying to find wherever the pinks live, or maybe the blacks, since they were my initial choices. Or, I mean, I think. I tried to guess what every item was.” The girl looks at the woman and the woman shrugs, then nods. “You said you saw a flower, in the room?” “Yeah. It was glowing, like sunlight was coming from it. It was really pretty.” The girl relaxes. “Oh, so you were initially drawn to the pink faction then.” I grin. “Yes! I knew it!” The woman turns to me and smiles. “Sorry we were so harsh to you before. I’ve never seen anyone with a crystal like yours.” “Yeah, that was kind of a dumbass move on your part,” the girl adds. “I mean, you’re lucky you met us instead of some of the other pinks. A lot of factions wouldn’t let you in. You made yourself an outcast.” I frown. “I didn’t want to do all of this fighting. I hate it. So I kind of didn’t want to choose at all. Plus, I told you, I’m really indecisive!” The girl snickers. Then I say, “I’m Ella, by the way.” The girl and the woman start walking and I follow them. “I’m Inkasisa,” the girl says. “Chiyo,” the woman tells me. I suddenly look at their faces, clothes, and even names, and I say, “where are you guys from? And when, I guess?” Inkasisa says, “we didn’t keep track of years the same way you did. I was Inca, the daughter of one of the most respected men alive.” Her voice rises with pride. “I lived and died in Hiroshima. The bomb,” Chiyo says. I shake my head and ask, “if we’re all from different places and times, we definitely speak different languages. How come we can understand each other?” “When you hear people talking, some strange force or something translates it; you hear everyone else speaking in your base language,” Chiyo explains. “Woah, that’s cool,” I say. Inkasisa nods. “Yep. That’s not even the coolest part about this place, either.” I feel a strange anticipation build inside of me as I imagine all the things possible in this new world, the world of the dead. Maybe it wasn’t so desolate or lonely after all. The girls lead me to a cliffside made of smooth marble, stone, and granite mixed together. I stare up at the top of the cliff which towers above me. Chiyo walls over to a small patch of grass near the base of the cliff while Inkasisa watches me, grinning, waiting for a reaction. Chiyo bends down to a single golden flower and whispers something. Suddenly I hear the sound of stone grating on stone. A small sliver of the marble near the base of the cliff shifts- I blink, thinking I’m seeing things, but it continues to pull inwards until there’s an obvious doorway peeking from the ground. The problem is, it’s a doorway the size of a small fed-ex package. I don’t know how anyone could fit in there. Sure, it’s pretty wide, but it’s just so short... “So?” Inkasisa prompts. Chiyo walks over to the small doorway, then steps directly into the ground. I stare. Half of her body has disappeared into the ground completely, making her look like a floating torso, arms, and head. She walks through the doorway and down a stone tunnel. Inkasisa walks forwards, beckoning me to follow. We reach the small doorway in the stone and the ground in front of it looks pretty solid- it’s not like there’s a hole or anything. Inkasisa jumps down into the patch of grass, also disappearing. “C’mon!” she says, giggling. I sit on the ground and slowly reach my foot out to the grass. It passes through. I continue, fascinated, as the rest of my leg passes through and dangles as if on an edge. I put my other leg in and slide into the ‘hole,’ and feel my feet hit actual, solid land- stone by the sound of it- just a foot or two down. I turn and see a holographic patch of dirt surrounding me. On the wall of the ‘ledge’ I’d just jumped from, there’s a sturdy metal ladder. Inkasisa is behind me, waiting. “Hurry up!” she says. “Sorry,” I say, running over to her. The hologram disappears soon enough and we’re in a long stretch of stone tunnel. It’s well-lit despite the fact that I can’t see any light sources. Occasionally we pass little hallways leading off in other directions, labeled “EMERGENCY STORAGE” or “SPECIALTY CROPS” or even “GENERATORS.” At the end of the tunnel, we turn to see Chiyo waiting, talking to a pair of green eyes peeking out from behind the stone. The voice of the green eyes is very high, definitely a child’s voice. “Took you long enough,” Chiyo says, not unkindly. “She spent all day staring at the hologram,” Inkasisa says with a smirk. “All day?” I ask. “I was just looking for a few seconds, okay? It’s so cool!” The pair of green eyes scans my face critically, then moves down to my necklace. I see them register it with some confusion, and maybe distrust- it’s hard to tell when I can’t see the rest of their face. “‘S she a captive?” the young child asks. “Nah, she’s with us,” Inkasisa says. “A new recruit! Just found her wandering around in the forest nearby. It’s lucky a Red didn’t find her, honestly.” The eyes don’t move from my face. “Why didn’t she arrive in our base, if she’s one of us?” “Funny story actually, she decided to be a dumbass and mess around with the colors too much. So now her necklace is all fucked up. But we checked with her and she’s definitely a pink,” Inkasisa explains. I silently thank her for defending me. Suddenly the wall in front of us slides to the right, and a little boy with black hair and tan skin emerges from where he was standing behind the lookout. His green eyes still focus on me. “Okay, I’ll see you guys,” he says. “See ya, Leon,” Chiyo says, going through the new doorway. Inkasisa follows, saying, “thanks Leon.” I go to follow and he sticks out an arm, stopping me. “I don’t trust you,” he says simply. “People like you always try to play the hero, to ‘not choose sides’ and to ‘find peace’ or whatever. But in the end everyone chooses a side and everyone joins the fight. It’s how this eternity works. So when you finally decide you’re going to choose a side, know that I will be watching to make sure it’s ours.” I shake my head sadly. “I’m not gonna refrain from fighting. After all, this place is all about that. But I’m also not gonna single out different groups the way you guys do. And I’m not gonna be cruel when I fight either. This eternity works the way we make it work.” Then I stare at Inkasisa and Chiyo, who are ahead of me. “If you want to watch me, fine. Go ahead. I’m with you guys now, I’m not the backstabbing type. Maybe when you watch me you’ll learn that humanity never ceases to change.” The boy stares at me distrustfully and moves his arm back, allowing me to pass. “If you say so,” he says. “That I do, thank you very much,” I reply. Then I run to catch up with Inkasisa and Chiyo. They walk me to a large room which seems to be a ‘common room’ of sorts. It’s at least the size of a football field, with a ceiling towering above my head sporting slightly rusted chandeliers which glow with soft candlelight. All around the room, on the walls and dangling from the ceiling, vines entwine themselves into each other, making nets and patterns everywhere. Flowers grow from each vine, seemingly in full bloom. An array of mismatched but comfy looking chairs, ottomans, couches, and recliners are scattered all over the room, some circled around a rug or maybe a cute, natural wooden coffee table, some placed in front of solid stone fireplaces or large TVs set into the stone walls. Bookshelves line the walls that aren’t being used for TVs or fireplaces, filled with books labeled in all sorts of ways, yet I can understand every one. I scan through the titles, seeing “Harry Potter” sitting next to “Faeries of World,” which is above a book titled “The Greatest Battle Tactics” and another book called “The Odyssey.” Looking at the books and the flowers and the comfy chairs makes me really happy, and suddenly I’m REALLY glad I ended up ‘siding’ with pink. “Hey, this isn’t even the best part,” Inkasisa tells me. She leads me through the room to the opposite side. I notice a few people milling about or sitting in chairs. A little girl with red hair and freckles is curled up and fast asleep on a sofa, and her rain boots are tucked against the side of a hulking man with wildly shaggy hair and who’s wearing nothing but strange crisscrossed leather straps, which form almost a dress. He glances casually at me, and then does a double take to glare at my necklace. I quickly tuck the rainbow crystal back into my shirt as he turns his head to follow me down the room. To the left there’s another hall leading a large room, and I hear clamoring coming from it, but it’s quiet as if far away. The peacefulness and utter calm of this place puts me in a good mood despite having died and then having screwed myself over by thinking I was being a good person and generally being indecisive. We go down another stone hallway but this one is decorated with those same vines, and smells sweet, like honeysuckle. We arrive at a few doors, maybe six or seven total, lined against the walls. The rest is a dead end. “These are the bedrooms,” Chiyo says. “Uh... correct me if I’m wrong... but isn’t this a little bit small for how many people there should be here?” I ask. “The room’s different for everyone,” Inkasisa says happily. “Kinda like the closets I told you ‘bout earlier. It’s chosen based off of your personality or whatever, like whatever you internally want and would enjoy most. Or something. Whoever opens the door decides the room; like if I open the door right now, it’d lead to my room. And you can come in and stuff, but if I close it you can’t. And then if YOU open it, well, it’d lead to your room!” “What’s your room look like?” I ask curiously, then blush when she looks at me weird. I guess it was kind of a personal question. “Here, I’ll show you,” she says, and opens the closest door. It reveals a small, wooden room, with walls made of some sort of clay or maybe stones stacked together masterfully. In one corner there’s what seems to be an early bed, padded with some sort of woolen material. The walls are covered in animal skins, various prehistoric weapons, and a few odd wall hangings that I can’t make out. Another corner has a roughly shaped mortar and pestle, along with several wooden bowls filled with paint and covered with ‘lids’ made of leather or some other animal skin. Masterful finger paintings line the rest of the walls. To one side there’s a doorway that seems to lead ‘outside,’ where the grass is long and thick and birds chirp. “Woah,” I say. She closes the door and gestures to the handle. “Your turn,” she chimes. I grab the handle, wondering what my room will look like. I open it and smile. It’s pretty big compared to my ‘life’ bedroom. The floors are made of a simple black-stained wood, sanded and polished until it was smooth and shone like it was plastic. The walls were simple gray at first glance, and the ceiling was a dark blue, scattered with such a realistic painting of stars and galaxies that, for a second, I think I have no roof. However, when you looked farther into the room, things get even cooler. The walls suddenly change in pixel-like patterns, with diamond-shaped sections of the wall ‘gradually’ fading into colors that make a pixelly rainbow of color on my wall. Several bookshelves line the other (gray) walls, filled with books whose titles flicker back and forth like the book did in the choosing room. My bed is a simple black wooden frame, made of the same material as the floor, with deep red curtains hanging from it; the curtains start almost maroon but fade into almost a rainbow of reds, and the very ends of the bottom of the curtains were almost orange. There’s a door against the painted wall which is painted the same colors, with a fancy crystal handle thats the same color(s) as the crystal around my neck. I walk inside and look around some more. There’s a light switch shaped like an old-time lever by the door, and it’s currently on. I pull it down and actually gasp. The room turns dark and shapes emerge on the walls and ceiling. The stars painted on are glow-in-the-dark, and look even more realistic. The rainbow walls have patterns that were invisible before, making a scene along the entire room. Butterflies, in all sorts of glowing colors, flit around. On one gray wall there’s the unmistakable shape of a cat’s silhouette, pawing at a butterfly. The bookshelves themselves light up, almost showcasing the books. Best of all, when I flip the lever, suddenly I hear the sounds of a rainstorm. I even feel it in the room somehow, and it’s amazing. Thunder claps now and again, easing my breath. When I walk to the center of the room I notice that there’s a few paintings, posters, and tapestries hung around the walls as well. The paintings are framed with super thin, black, wooden frames, simple and not designed. One painting depicts a black cat staring at the moon, which drips with rainbow colors. Next to it is a smaller black and white cat, who is stretching playfully, it’s tail curling in the air. The cats look like the cats I have in real life, except in the style of a painting rather than a photo. Another painting is of Van Gogh’s Starry Night. One depicts, in the same style as the cat painting, my family and friends, smiling and laughing, all lined up as if getting ready for a huge photo. The posters include my corvette poster from my old room, a bunch of video game posters of my favorite games and characters, posters of my favorite shows and movies, and posters of my favorite books. There’s only one or two tapestries; one is a bunch of pinks in (surprise) a rainbow, and it’s basically a lesbian pride flag made into a tapestry. The other has a simple scene of a blonde-haired woman, presumably me, reaching her hand to the sun. Above the sun a bunch of other people (resembling my family and friends) reach back towards me. I walk over to the door and notice a small dial and button. I mess with the dial and to my delight, find that it’s almost like a radio- except it plays all of my favorite music. I go through the rainbow door and see an elegant bathroom. The tiles are black, but every now and again there’s a pattern of splashed rainbow colors going across several tiles. The walls are rainbows that fade into grays, the opposite of my bedroom. The bathroom’s absolutely huge- for a bathroom that is. There’s a sink to my immediate left, with a smooth black marble countertop that extends gracefully before dropping down. Underneath part of the countertop there’s a row of shelves holding various items. The sink is a very elegant dip into the counter, with an unnoticeable drain and matte silver handles and the same color spout, looking very sleek and modern. Above the sink is a modern-styled mirror, shaped like a square but tinted around the edges in all colors. It seems to be set into the wall and almost fades away at the edges because of the tint. At the end of the room is a ginormous shower, big enough for me to lay down in and stretch out and still have a bit of room. The shower is tiled completely black and has a few ledges meant to sit on or even lay on while showering; little dips and indents in the tile walls reveal holding places stocked with shampoo, conditioner and more. The shower has three shower heads set into the ceiling, stained black, that are really big and really square. The toilet is set in an indent in the wall next to the sink, so I have to walk forwards to see it. It’s simple and black, but better quality than my toilet was in life. Against the other (final) wall, to my left, is yet another indent. The wall seems to almost continue until about knee level, where it suddenly stops and reveals another, much smaller room. That’s what I think at first, at least. The other ‘room’ is actually a bathtub. The tiles are black like the showers and the spout and handles are like the sink’s. Little indents like in the shower reveal soaps and more. In an indent right next to the bathtub there’s a small closet-like thing, with the same walls and floor as the room, which has several black shelves holding clean, fluffy white towels. At the bottom there’s a little bin that seems to be for disposal of the towels. “Wow, you’re kind of high-maintenance,” Inkasisa says from behind me. I laugh. “This is really awesome. I can’t believe I get to live here!” Inkasisa snorts. “You don’t!” I start to ask what she means before I realize. I’m not living here. I’m dead. “You know what I mean,” I mutter quickly. The dream continues with Inkasisa and Chiyo showing me around. The more I see, the more I grow to love this place. I’m almost happy to be here. Then they take me to the armory and weapons room. “It works kind of like bedrooms,” Chiyo explains. “When you reach into the slot, it gives you whatever weapon is most suited to you- or whatever weapon you prefer, if you’ve fought before. And when you don any armor from the armory, it changes to whatever fits you best, or again, whatever you prefer.” I feel my heart sink. I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to die again or to kill people again and again, for eternity. I say, “oh, okay.” Inkasisa comes in behind me and reaches into one of the slots on the walls. “You’re lucky you arrived here so late, almost everyone is sleeping by now. Normally there’s lines for these babies!” There’s a clatter and a long, double-ended spear falls into Inkasisa’s hand. I stare at the slot apprehensively. “Go on,” Chiyo urges. I carefully place my hand in the slot and my heart races as I wait. I hear a clatter; then- “What?” I ask. “This isn’t a weapon.” A small, metal disc has fallen into my hand. On closer inspection I realize it says something. “No WAY!” Inkasisa says, rushing to my side and leaning over my shoulder. The disc reads, “GCP,” followed by some fancy yet basic flower engravings. The center has a gold flower in bloom, with a red gemstone set in the very middle. “What does ‘GCP’ mean?” I ask. I’m glad I didn’t get something brutal, like a mace, because I would hate to have to kill with something like that. But the simplicity of this thing makes me nervous. “It means ‘General Commander over Pink,’” Chiyo says, leaning over my other shoulder. She seems surprised, too. “I don’t get it,” I say. “I thought this thing gave you weapons?” Chiyo shakes her head. “It really just gives you whatever you’re best suited for in battle. That includes being in the positions of command or creating strategies, if that’s what you’d be best at.” I stare at the disc some more. “So then... what do I do now? Is this a badge or something?” Inkasisa is pumping her fist and hissing, “YES, I am SO glad we took her in, now I’m friends with a COMMANDER,” and stuff. Chiyo shakes her head, then turns to me and says, “oh, yes, it is a badge. I believe you have to go speak with the other commanders now. Although commanders are very rare; we only have about forty, and that’s not many considering how many people we have in Pink altogether.” From there I end up going to the other commanders. There’s some arguments over the fact that I’m only fifteen, and since I haven’t been down here for very long I was extremely inexperienced; then there was discourse over my crystal. I ended up taking the position of the General Commander for the newer ‘troops’ that come in. Then, all of the commanders sit and talk strategy. I’m able to help a little bit, and even add my own idea that they later decide to use, which I’m proud of because I had almost no clue about what was going on. Then, things got weird. When I went to go back to my room, my crystal started glowing. I rushed over to Inkasisa, who was chilling in a La-Z-Boy talking to some old woman, and asked her what to do. She just shook her head, and said, “maybe it’s changing so you can officially become a Pink. I don’t know.” The crystal gets hotter and hotter just like when I first got my ‘color(s),’ and soon I’ve attracted a small crowd of curious people. Normally I’d hate the attention but I’m more focused on the fact that my crystal is glowing and burning through my skin again. Then, suddenly, I feel gravity release it’s control on me; I float into the air slowly, as if a weak magnet was pulling me towards the ceiling. “Woahh,” I yelp, scrambling to try and grab something to tether me to the ground, but I’m too far up already. The crowd starts talking loudly and I turn in midair to try and dodge the chandeliers because I don’t want to be impaled. Then, my vision dances, and the crystal glows brighter and I can’t see my hands, they’re flashing on and off, invisible then visible. I’m pulled through the ceiling and when I emerge the crystal is gone and I’m in that same living room as when I first died. “Hello,” says Death. “Why am I here?” I ask. “Straight to the point,” he says. “Well, I was collecting souls when I started to notice a... strange occurrence,” he begins. “People were dying with what I thought at first was cardiac arrest, caused by your disease. But later I found a crack between the worlds, and I’m almost certain it was spreading death to people who were not supposed to die.” I gape. “So... I should be alive right now?” “Precisely. But I can’t send you back normally, or make you ‘alive’ again. However, I can still send you back in a way.” I nod for him to continue. “I can send you back in the same form you took when you had first died,” he explains. “That almost ‘ghostlike’ form, if you recall?” I nod hurriedly. “But once I send you back, I will not be able to bring you back down until the time comes when you would have normally died. It could be a very long time, and spending that long invisible and unable to interact with anything could be much more miserable than this place, for some.” I shake my head. “No, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go back.” “Not at all.” I blink and I’m back at my grave. Since I know what’s happening I move as fast as I can towards my house, ignoring cars and people (although walking through things makes my heart jump every time). I reach my house and see my family eating dinner. They seem to have stopped grieving- at least, they’re not crying and miserable. It’s a bit more quiet than normal but otherwise, they seem okay. Except my brother is way taller than I remembered him being and my dads hair is whiter. I check the calendar and see that almost a year has passed since I died (the thought sounds strange). I figure that time probably works differently between worlds. I go over and try to touch something or make something move, with a little more success than I’d had with the flowers. I push a spoon from off of a bowl and mess with my sisters hair. But my parents simply yell at my brother for kicking the table (“I didn’t do it!” “Listen to your mother!”) and my sister turns and looks straight through me with an odd, slightly scared expression. I would groan except I can’t talk. They continue to eat and it’s very silent. My brother and sister are acting more well-behaved than normal, probably so that they don’t stress out our (their?) parents. Then, they disperse to their own rooms. My dad lays in bed and tries to fall asleep while my mom stares sadly at a photo of me. I try to touch her but she doesn’t seem to notice anything unusual. I go to my brother’s room and he’s playing MADDEN like usual, although he’s way more into it, and there are bags under his eyes. Then I go to my sisters room and see her Tik Tok dancing. The fact that she’s still doing that stuff fuels me with enough annoyance to pick up a pen from her desk, and hold it for almost eight seconds. My sister stops dancing and stares, horrified. “Hello?” she whispers. I pick up the pen again, with some struggle, and almost feel the timer of how long I’ll be able to hold it for. I quickly (but exhaustedly) push the button and write on her desk- I manage “it’s E” before the pen drops. Grace comes over to her desk and stares, open-mouthed. “It’s who?” she whispers in a tiny voice. I catch my nonexistent breath and pick up the pen again, struggling as if I’m lifting a hundred pounds. I finish the sentence, “it’s Ella,” before the pen drops again. She gasps. “Ella? Are you a ghost?” I again catch my ‘breath’ and pick up the pen, and do a simple check, then start to write ‘it’s h’ before I drop the pen. Through this process I write, ‘it’s hard to do things,’ and my sister waits patiently if not extremely shocked as I write. Then she whispers, “ohh, cause you’re a ghost!” The thinks. Then she says, “wait, I’ll ask questions and you pick up the pen if it’s true, and uhhhh, the pencil if it’s false.” I pick up the pen to try and say ‘okay,’ and she understands thank god. Then she says, “have you been here all along just watching us?” I pick up the pencil. “So wait, did you go to heaven?” Pencil. “Hell?” Pencil. “Where’d you go then?” I wait and she realizes she asked a difficult question for me to answer. “Oh, sorry... um... did you go somewhere else besides heaven and hell?” Pen. “Was it like, a place for dead people though?” Pen. “Was it dark? Or scary?” Pencil, after hesitation. “Was it nice then?” Pencil. Whatever I was using to pick stuff up was getting tired. “Did you come back up for unfinished business?” Pencil. “Uhh, to see us?” I manage to lift the pen and pencil with both ‘hands.’ She frowns. Then she says, “to see us, and to try and come back alive?” Again, both. She grunts. Then she says, “will you go to school?” I lift the pencil high. “Can I talk to you and stuff still, though?” Pen, high. We talk for a bit more before I finally write, “makes me tired,” and she understands and says “okay, talk to me tomorrow!” I don’t exactly sleep, but instead sit in my sisters room and watch her. As I sit my ‘energy’ seems to return. The next day Grace excitedly tries to show my parents and brother that I exist, but my parents don’t believe it. My mom starts crying and saying, “don’t, Grace,” and my Dad says, “Grace, don’t pretend for stuff like this, come on... you know we’ve gone over this before...” Both she and I get frustrated but my parents insist on believing it to be some sort of trick. My brother believes though, after my sister lets him in alone with me and he asks questions that only I would know about him- his worst fear, for example, and his most embarrassing secret. The rest of the dream continues with me struggling to talk to them and convincing my parents that I wasn’t like, gone. My sister ends up starting up my brothers old iPad and makes the keys huge, and since my ability to touch things improves as I work (like working out muscles, almost), I start typing full sentences and actually talking with them. They insist on me describing the world of the dead, but I only say a little bit, claiming that “it’s not for the living to know,” not knowing how else to phrase it. In return they describe everything that’s happened since I died, both in the family and the rest of the world. It’s nice to talk to them again and they seem super happy about it too. Eventually my brother and sister give my parents the iPad and convince them to try talking to me. My dad sighs, “Ella?” as if I’ve already proven myself to be gone. I type, “why’d you say it like that?” My mom stares but my dad says sadly, “not real, honey. It’s an AI.” I type, “that’s rude, I’m a lot better than Siri. Ask me anything i would know and I’ll answer.” My dad blinks and asks my first elementary school. I answer. Then he asks what I got for each of my birthdays and I answer as best I can. He asks about what my favorite foods, colors and animals are, and I answer truthfully. Then my mom says tremulously, “what song did we used to sing to you?” I type out, “I remember you and Pop-pop singing, ‘my only sunshine,’” and as I type my nonexistent throat goes to hum the tune, and I hear my voice in the room. My parents both jump and look around, and from there they realize I do exist, and I slowly gain my ‘voice’ back until I can talk with the family. They all seem super happy, and things soon fall into place like normal... kind of. My mom makes me sit at the dinner table every night even though I can’t eat and can barely talk (I can’t speak for more than thirty seconds at a time), and she has me do any ‘chores’ I’m capable of. They put all of the things they’d cleaned from my room back and help me keep it clean. My mom even has me do ‘school work,’ using a touchscreen laptop they buy for me to do simple classes on Khan Academy and stuff. After about a year of this, I’ve managed to improve a lot. I can talk and even whistle pretty much normally, and can even sing or hum. I can hold things easily, although bigger things (like furniture) still give me a struggle as I try to hold them. Strangely enough, it’s not the weight of items that throws me off, just the ability to grab it. I found this out when me and my brother were messing around and I grabbed his 20 lb weight, thinking my hand would pass through, but I grabbed it as easily as I’d grab his 5 lb weight. Then, we discover something amazing. As I use my nonexistent body to do things, it starts to become more existent. I notice this when I’m sitting at the kitchen table like normal and my brother spills something. I don’t flinch because I know it’ll pass through me- only it doesn’t. Everyone stares as the red Gatorade reveals the shape of my leg and foot. After that, my parents start insisting on me wearing whatever clothes would stay on, and soon I’m basically existent except for one tiny thing, which is that I’m still invisible. One day my sister spends hours doing makeup on my face to try and make me seem ‘real,’ and she even gives me colored contacts, and I’m so happy and awed when I look in the mirror and see myself- with bright lipstick and a powdered, sure, but myself all the same. My parents and brother are super happy too, my mom even cries. The dream continues like this, to the point where my parents even consider trying to send me back to school- before I remind them that I’ve been declared dead, and my body is still rotting in a coffin somewhere. The dream ends with me at the dinner table, helping to prepare food I wouldn’t be able to eat.