Remembering my Resurrection - ​Chapter 2 – Beyond death, apparently

Death was exactly how I expected it to be. I couldn’t see my body, yet I knew it was there. It was comforting to be here, wherever it was, but I knew I was in isolation. It wasn’t heaven or hell or anything like a place for souls to roam. Actually, it was soft, but that’s it. Not a far distance away from me, I saw a peak of light. I assumed it was the infamous tunnel which leads to heaven or hell. Was I stuck here? Nothing seemed to be happening. I couldn’t check behind me; my head was somehow in a fixed position. I stopped overthinking and just accepted my fate that I might be a ghost by now and my opportunity of promised everlasting life was diminished. Maybe the light ahead of me wasn’t accepting any souls at this time. It’s as if the light was mocking me. Every part of my being wanted to go through it.

In the tunnel, as a ghost, I realized that I didn't need to breathe. In fact, I couldn't breathe. All my bodily functions were plugged up and everything felt like jelly. If I concentrated hard enough on the light, I could hear people talking. At first, I thought it was my imagination, but there was a distinct sound of a woman making sounds of groaning and discomfort. Again, from her, there was a muffled scream. She was clearly in agony. Was I being sent to hell? I never did anything worth that type of miserable fate while I was alive. I could have sworn the light was bigger than a minute ago. Or had it been an hour? Time might move differently in the tunnel.

Noise outside of the tunnel got louder. I could hear faint beeping and a man with a commanding voice say “Maria, I’m going to need you to push.” What was going on? Was that the voice of the devil? It sounded like he was ordering that woman to get to work, as her punishment for eternity.

The light was definitely a lot closer to me. Was hell supposed to be this bright? I felt a few small jolts near what felt like my leg. “Harder. You can do it.” The man spoke again, now sounding kinder. There must have been some appeal to the devil. Why else would humankind continue being so terrible? He was even rarely worshipped, as if he was godlike and not a fallen angel. The light almost consumed me, and I heard the woman let out one last deafening scream. I was thrust into the light. It was so bright I couldn’t even open my eyes. I couldn’t find out if I was just given to God or Lucifer. It was chillingly bitter and I didn’t feel any clothes on me. Didn’t they used to say the devil burned cold? I started crying. But when I heard my own wailing, I stopped. I stopped partially because of shame, but most importantly I sounded much different. The sound that came out of my mouth reminded me of when I was five and my mom would not let me eat the dog food set out for Minnie, our black Labrador. I was a whiny kid having a temper tantrum back then.

I was curious to see if it would happen again. I began fussing. If Susan was here she would have said I had the best baby impression she ever heard. But she wasn’t here, because here is a place where I am too afraid and sensitive to even open my eyes.

I could feel someone pick me up carefully. They were wearing rubber gloves and it was surprisingly easy for them to carry me. I quickly was met by a rush of room temperature water (or...dimension temperature?) and I attempted opening my eyes. Squinting, I saw a gross layer of reddish, translucent material come off me and regroup at the bottom of the apparent sink I was in. Whoever was holding me cleaned my face and even though I could see better I was still crying. I was confused and freezing and crying was the only way I could let anyone surrounding me know that I needed something. The problem was, I was so distraught that I didn’t even know what I needed. I fantasized about having a hot bath back in Brooklyn in my apartment building that always had hot water and sanctuary. The person that washed me handed me off to someone else who contained a fuzzy blanket. Being wrapped in that blanket was enlightening; I never remembered blankets feeling so plush. The fabric surrounding me was a little hard to breathe in, and I felt a little asthmatic. The blanket person then put me in the arms of who I inferred was the screaming woman from earlier. She had curly brown hair that was long enough to maintain, but short enough that it stuck out of her head at strange angles. Her forehead was sweaty like she just ran a marathon, but her smile was relaxed. She and the blanket kept me warm. She looked directly in my eyes, which usually made me uncomfortable, but I didn’t feel out of place. I looked right back at her. I admired her wide brown eyes and wrinkles forming near them as her smile elongated. “I’m going to name you Anthony” she said.

Well, that didn’t sound quite right. Maria leaned forward and motioned her head toward the door. A little blonde boy no more than four years old slowly shuffled into the room. He starred at me with an even wider gaze than Maria. She said happily “Luke, say hi to your baby brother”. He had his hands folded behind his back and rocked back and forth on the heels of his feet. He looked just as nervous as I was bewildered. “Hi” he mumbled in my direction.

Death was not at all how I imagined it to be.