Death and Rebirth

Ilara Bonaparte

 

Everyone dies.  Sometimes it’s a matter of how, when, where.  But why-  shouldn’t we be entitled to know why?  While you’re lying there in a pool of your own blood, you should know why you’re dying.  Why whoever’s face you look up at hates you enough to kill you.

That’s what I thought, at least, when I died.  Floating above my body and waiting for someone to find it doesn’t really rate high on my list.  But that’s what I was doing.  Waiting.

For what?  Where was the existential bright light that would bring me to heaven, or the dark hole that would slide me to hell?  I looked around.  My room looked exactly the same as it had before, only now I was dead.  The pink sheets on my bed were gathered at the foot of my bed, a stuffed bear sat on the floor, where I’d thrown it in surprise.  I looked behind me and saw that the bullet had imbedded in the navy wall, between my Tom Cruise and Ethan Hawke posters.  My desk was littered with papers, and the bedside lamp was still glowing.  My pale blue carpeting was spider-webbed with red-my blood.  I’d bled quite a bit, actually.  Surprising, considering that at five foot I don’t seem to hold much at all.  Well, aside from the horizontal viewpoint.  I had been five foot tall and almost as wide. 

At least there would be no more teasing from the kids at my High School.  Man, did that ever suck.  You can’t really know what it’s like to be overweight unless you live it in High School.  The teasing, gossiping, and rude remarks never stop.  No more of that, at least.

My murderer had long since left.  He hadn’t been there when I’d came to, floating above my bed.  I wondered why the gunshot hadn’t woken anyone.  But then again, my whole family might be dead.  If they were, wouldn’t they be here?  Wouldn’t they come looking for me?

“It’s horrible, seeing your body for the first time.  It’s even worse if you watch the embalming process.  Now that’s ugly.” I turned in surprise to see a specter floating beside me.  He was handsome in an angelic sort of way- blue eyes, white hair, fair skin.  The fact that he had wings sealed the point.  He was looking at me with interest.  “You know, it’s horrible.  I never thought fate could go wrong.  But she’s been messing around with that oaf from Angelic Apparitions, naturally she’d get her strings cut wrong.” He seemed annoyed, then he looked at me, then to the body, and laughed.  “Well, it’s really odd, seeing you floating and looking like a supermodel with your real body below you. No offense, but in life you weren’t much of a looker.” His eyes changed into a green-brown color that seemed to mar his perfection.  “Oh, damn.” Now his chin became less chiseled. 

I was getting confused.  “What is happening to you?”

He grinned, and his chin went back into place.  “If you’re an angel, your beauty gets marred by not being compassionate.  Thus, my being rude about your body in life.  Sorry.  The better a person you are, the more attractive you are on this plane.” He looked my spiritual form over.  “You must’ve been a very good girl.”

I was starting to get annoyed.  “Look, I have no problem with you acting like a jerk, I’m teased all the time, so I’m used to it.  But where do I go from here?”

The angel looked flustered, and his visage returned to perfection.  “Well, that’s what I meant about Fate.  Her younger aspect has taken it upon herself to shack up with some angel from Angelic Apparritions- they control angel sightings, miracles, whatever.  But the thing is, Fate neglected her duty.  You need to live.  It’s not a case of “you weren’t supposed to die”, it’s the fact that you absolutely must live.”

I blinked.  “Okay.” I said, unsure of what he meant.  Was I going to be resurrected, or would I get another body, like in the movies?  And what was so special about me?

He smiled at me.  “Unfortunately, this is an odd case.  It’s the first time in a thousand years this happened, and before that Fate was new in her office.  The one before her ended up resigning and dying the next day.  No idea how that happened, and the old Fate can’t tell us, she’s in Purgatory.  We can’t go there.” He waved his hands and shook his head.  “I’m angry and I’m rambling.  I apologize.  The truth is, we don’t know what to do with you.  You need to live, but you can’t remember any of what I tell you.  Goes against an unwritten code.”

He seemed to think a moment, and I waited.  Bruising was beginning to form on my former body’s backside.  I had been wearing shorts to bed so I could see the blood pooling at the lowest point of gravity. 

He smacked his hands together.  “I got it!  I’ll be right back.”

I blinked and he was gone.  There was no whoosh of air, no scent of magic,  no cheesy, B-movie sparkles as he faded out.  He was there, then he wasn’t.

As I waited, I didn’t want to know if my family was alive or not, but the curiosity was killing me.

Ha, ha.  Killing me.  Funny.

Truth was that if they were dead, I’d break down.  I wouldn’t hear a word the angel said, because I’d be begging him to bring back my family.  So I waited like the coward I was.

He returned before I could gather the courage to venture into the rest of the house. “Good news,” he chirruped.  “Fate and I came to an agreement.  Well, I almost had to smack her up,” His nose shifted into an odd position on his face and he frowned slightly, “But the message got through.  A girl in the next state over just killed herself.  You two have the same ideals and similar background.  She’s rich, beautiful, and popular.  You won’t know what to do with yourself.  However, a switchover is delicate.  I have to transfer some of her memories to you, and delete a few of yours.  Take my hand if you agree.”

My ears were ringing.  Rich?  Beautiful?  I’d never felt what it was like to be beautiful.  “Will my personality change?” I asked timidly.

“A little, but it’s necessary.  This girl is a member in enough clubs and sports you just can’t be shy.  But we need your soul and overall personality in the future.  You’ll end up helping heaven quite a bit.”

I gave him my hand.  “Alright.  Do it.”

 

It was two weeks after I’d tried to kill myself, and I still didn’t know why I had.  There’d been enough “Get well” cards in the hospital that I had to start putting them on the floor.  My mom was upset, of course, and my dad traveled from his Tahiti retreat to check on me.  I was fine, I told them.  I hadn’t meant to take all those sleeping pills.

Truth was, I was happier.  I was depressed before I took the pills, but I felt much better afterward, like a weight was lifted.  There was no sad moments, listening to the meaningless chatter at my lunch table, no regret that my father had left my mother a month before.  I felt free, better than I had in my whole life.

My friends all thought I’d caught mono, which I made sure they spread around.  I didn’t want my reputation to go down simply because of one moment of weakness.  I was running for class president in a month, I couldn’t have my reputation damaged.  So I pretended to be tired, and muttered about my spleen exploding.

My first day back at school was non eventful, and I was writing my presidential candidacy letter so I could start putting up posters with “Vote for me” and whatever else on them.  MSNBC was on, detailing a car chase.  I looked up long enough to become interested, and a few cheerleaders were talking about it around me.  The essay was due in an hour, so I needed all the time I could get.

“I hope he doesn’t show up here…”

“He’s eluded capture for two weeks now.”

“I read he killed a whole family in the next state over.”

I took interest.  “A whole family?”

“Yeah,” She said, eyes delighted to talk to me.  I’d been somewhat antisocial trying to finish the letter.  “The parents, an eight year old girl, and a girl our age.” 

I blinked back and felt suddenly…familiar to the information.  Like I’d already known it.  “That sucks.” I said nonchalantly, and returned to my paper.

Class ended, but not before the car chase did.  The guy ended up crashing into an expressway wall.  Good riddance, I thought as I walked from the classroom.  I suddenly had a feeling of euphoria that was unexplained, the kind that only comes from cold, sweet revenge.  I kept walking, tossing my hair and moving on.  I had a campaign to plan.