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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2208775
Rated: E · Short Story · Spiritual · #2208775
Life after death
         Winter months are the worst. Watching all the people hustle and bustle about, without any care to anyone but their own reason for being. I’m all grown up now, and I have no one anymore. My one sibling lives in the Midwest while I still exist here. My parents, Aunts,and Uncles have long since passed. I have Nieces and Nephews but have their responsibilities now, they are distant relatives anyways and should not be bothered by me and my issues. Every year I choose one day to walk down Main Street. On this day, all are with their families, while I still search for mine. I ache in my heart during this short walk.

         Not sure if the ache is real or fabricated. The holidays have lost their luster in my mind and heart. Nothing I have tried in past years has helped me to get it back. Life seemed to suck the feeling of joy out of me throughout time. I genuinely envy the ones who can hold onto the joy through all of the trials and tribulations of life. I never understood the sadness of this time during these days of others when I was younger. Now that I have made it to where I never thought I would be in age, I totally understand now.

         The television has programmed everyone on what the holidays should be for all. Not sure if it was intentional or not, they gave us the perfect recipe and they also show us where we can get the ingredients. It is all gifts and trees with a cup of always having someone to be with during the holiday. If you don’t well, wait in an elevator, work in a coffee shop, or better yet be a rich person with no personality and the person to come and help them out, somehow manages to save them from absolute despair. Well, I had and still have my share of despair, and the only silver linings I see is the light coming through the sliver of my windows privacy treatment.

         Where I come from, money goes to money, and people stay away, mainly on purpose. Which is the real recipe of life, I have seen one’s struggle to get somewhere and lose everything in the wake. Others have done nothing and done fairly well for themselves. I am one of the individuals that have fallen many times and got back up again, and again. I finally decided to stay down this time.

         The oscillation of haves and have nots became exhausting after a while. So I went into a shelter for what I thought to be a well deserved sabbatical. I still had a home at that time, but as I became accustom to the shelter life, it was lost in foreclosure. No one from any of my previous job ever wondered where I went or was, well at least that I know of. The one thing I learned from my time here in the shelter, is no one gives a crap if you die, but they always ask where someone is if they do not return. I always felt it was just so they could go through and divvy up your stuff.

         Starting my annual Winter walk from my church to my new home, a journey I have made many of years past. There will be my new and ever changing family. My posture is slumped to some degree now, the weather feels colder to me, and my attire is inadequate for this kind of weather. The road slightly covered with snow, so are the cars parked along the sidewalks, and all the trees that decorate the area show the same. I usually walk down the center of the road so I may look at what I used to have.

         It sounds like someone is shooting fireworks I may have got the day confused, I do that more now than before. Trying to keep my journey swift and incident free, making no eye contact with strangers. I feel like I am coming down with something, I am becoming weak. I am losing my footing, now I am tripping over on my own feet. Succumbing to weakness, I start to fall, and my head impacts onto the snow-covered surface. I have the desire to yell, but no sound is coming out. It is cold down here on the ground, why is it that no one sees me here.

          I start to see shadows, but no footprints in the snow, they are floating around and some are above me. A feeling of abandonment soon follows. Within a blink of an eye I see myself on the road, alone and seemed to be unwanted. The view is from a nearby tree, not sure how or when that happened, maybe it is to make sure to show me how pathetic my life really is. I see no one running out of any apartments to help me, nor did I hear any sirens of hope. Even though I think I may go to Heaven, my feelings are still of lonelyness, abandoned and that I offered nothing to the world that took me in.

         Not even area dogs of the street came over to nudge me or rummage through my pockets for the hopes of food. I am colder but without the shivering, in fact, I feel nothing, no physical pain, or emotional distraught. I decided to try to get back into where I thought I belonged, so I jumped from the tree limb aiming for my body below. I was nearly back when a shadowy object with large wings swooped me up before I fell back into my wishful destination.

         Away we went up, up, and up skyward. This angel looking wraith started me on something that I never would have expected. As we ascended we punched a hole in the clouds above and seemed to be heading towards the Sun, or so I thought. All my fears of falling, and dying were not there. Even my negative thoughts subsided and soon became forgotten, it was what I wished my whole life were like. One oddity is I can still see myself lying on the street while I was on this new journey to where I do not know.

         Both the wraith’s and my form are changing. We have changed into glowing golden sphere with a purple hue, and I am the purple hued sphere. Moving with such velocity, I did not get to see what the surroundings looked like. It was black, for how long I do not know, it seems this journey makes the loss of time apparent. A bright point of light started to materialize, and then it turned in a galaxy size light. The brightness was on a massive scale and yet it did not affect me.

          I can still see my physical self-lying on the road where we left, some strangers have gathered around my body now. The snow on the ground is turning red around my body. I lay in the cold street wounded somehow, the fireworks that I heard were most likely gunshots. I might be the intentional target or it was a stray. Flashing blue and red lights are coming towards me. I lost my sense of hearing, all I can do is see. All the while, we are still going towards the bright light, it is the brightest that I have ever encountered. The now golden wraith is still encompassing me through this bewildering journey. There are millions of the same types of globes, the outer globes are gold, the inner globes have different variations of color. The bright light actually consists of all of the globes illumination combined. There seems to be a brighter light beyond the globes, it is softer, and much brighter. As I get closer to it, I start to forget my old life with my old body along with my existence.

         Another change is happening, it appears the globe that surrounded me through this whole trip is now vanishing from around my orb. I am now again alone on a mysterious journey, this time in a small purple orb and I am heading straight for the main light. I know I do not breath air now, but if I did my lungs would burst in what I was in front of, better still, who I was in front of. No nametag is necessary, no introduction either, all who come before him will know who they are in front of, the king of kings. Within another bink of an eye, the orb and the light went out.

         I woke up in the hospital alone as I was on the road and still with no sense of time. Tears welled from my eyes, wondering why I was allowed to be revived and live. My thoughts went darker thinking God himself did not even want me. In the middle of that thought, the room walls turned an ominous crimson red, with the rest of the room pitch black. Never before have I seen darkness so empty. I started to hear a faint but eerie voice spouting out things that I have done to others, myself, and yes to God. It appears this presence is naming all of my sins past and present. I was in the darkest of dark. I felt scared, nervous, and concerned for my well-being. I never spoke a word, although it seemed to know me, I did not know it.

         Like a child with a fear of the dark, I took my sheet with the blanket and pulled it up to my chin. I was shaking with a fear that I never felt before in my life. The red light started to come off the walls and began materializing into some kind of figure that hovered over me. I felt this was the end, again, but with a far worse outcome. Out of nowhere, I heard my name it sounded soft, gentle yet stern. A sound that was familiar, a sound I have not heard in a long time. The familiar golden orb came into the room, almost if not entirely dissolving the red darkness. “Devon, Devon, do not be fooled by the words spouted to you by the darkness. Remember, the devil knows your name but calls you by your sin, God knows your sin but calls you by your name.” I became calm, faithful, and the comfort knowing someone cared for me enough to send something to remind me and help me through all of what I had of this crazy mixed up life.

          It took some time for me to recover, eventually, I moved away after I came out of the hospital and finished rehab. I turned my life around, I am all done with self-pity, and I reconnected with what is left of my real family. I wheeled into my new hometown and looked for the first help wanted sign I saw, even if it just being a pearl diver at the local diner. I did this before I found a place to live, this allowed me to hold my head higher than normal. I also started a vlog on what you think happens when you die, I also started adult classes at the towns Church.

         I told them my ordeal, after finishing the story the panel said they have heard similar experiences from others and welcomed my story. That made me feel much better about what I went through, for me this was literally a life altering experience. That snowy day in the city going to the homeless shelter from the church was my last winter’s walk I had ever taken. I have been in a wheelchair ever since, paralyzed from the waste down. I write this on my death bed fifteen years later, hoping all who read this will not feel sad, but be enriched from the faith that one can gain from one last Winter’s walk.


1998 words


© Copyright 2019 Jon Woodcrest (chasfact at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2208775