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Neil D Ostroff

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After
By Neil D Ostroff
Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Rated "PG" by the Author.

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On the day we’re born we’re all destined to die. But what lies after? For fifteen–year-old Nick Murray, death is only the beginning. His entire human life has been an illusion in preparation for the epic role his soul will play in the destiny of the universe.

 

Chapter 1
 
 
 
 
    
     “Time of death,” said a tall man dressed in surgical attire. He had cotton-colored hair, a snowy white moustache, and a long beard. “1:17 P.M.
     For a moment, I didn’t know where I was. Then it dawned on me. I’m in a hospital emergency room. Something terrible must have happened.
     “This doesn’t make sense,” replied a woman, who was also dressed in surgical attire. “I can’t find anything wrong with him. There’s no medical explanation. A fifteen-year-old boy shouldn’t have just died like that.”
     The woman leaned over and checked my neck for a pulse. Penlight illuminated my right eye and then my left. A stethoscope pressed against my chest.
     She shook her head. “Nothing. No vitals at all.”
     Panic hit. I tried with all my might to speak. I tried to move my arms. I tried to get someone’s attention. I tried to scream; I’m alive! I’m alive! I can hear you! I can see you! But no breath passed through my vocal chords. My body wouldn’t respond to my mind’s commands. I lay there helpless, a paralyzed shell.
     The woman turned around to look at the heart monitor. Hastily, the tall man withdrew a golf ball-size crystal from his front pocket and circled it above my chest. Blue light flashed from the crystal’s center. The tall man quickly stashed it away. Despite being in a bright, sterile room, snake-like bands of black shadow burst from the walls and dropped to the floor. The woman was busy adjusting the equipment and didn’t notice as the bands whipped up my body and tunneled into my ears, nose, and mouth.
     My vision dimmed. My thinking clouded. Scenes of my life suddenly appeared in front of me as if I were standing on the sidelines observing. Everything I’d ever done played like a movie in fast-forward: standing in my crib, learning to walk, to ride my bike, my first day at WhitmoreElementary School, fishing with dad at the pier, my freshman prom with Sarah, getting my learner’s permit last month. The visions ended with me collapsing on the lawn earlier today and Sarah running toward me with a look of horror on her face.
     I was suddenly back on the hospital gurney. I felt light, floaty. I lifted upward toward the ceiling, an exact copy of my physical made of cloud. I turned my head and looked down at my body. My mortal eyes were glazed and half-lidded. My face was the color of cream. A luminous cord the width of a shoelace stretched from my human head into the back of my spirit head.
     Something popped inside my skull. The connecting cord turned to sparkle. I started to drift away from my body toward the other side of the room. 
     “I’ll notify those in the visitor’s lounge that the patient passed away,” the tall man said. “The mother, and I believe, the patient’s girlfriend, are in there.” 
     The woman’s face looked almost as pale as mine on the gurney.
     “I don’t understand,” she said, as she peeled off a latex glove. “This boy was in perfect health!”  
     Sound disappeared. I shot upward through a spinning vortex of stars. I stopped and suddenly my world was bright and filled with pain, as if my skin had caught fire. I found myself standing on the front porch of my house. Shafts of sunlight were beating down from the clear blue sky. I grabbed at the doorknob and in my frenzy the momentum carried me forward through the solid wood and into the foyer. I tripped and nearly fell. Sunlight beamed from the windows like lasers.
      Panicked to find relief from the burning, I ran across the hallway through the closed basement door and down the steps into the dark, cool cellar. Filamentous illumination drifted off my spirit body. I scratched my arm and my fingertips raked along what felt like real skin. I patted my chest and thighs, they were solid. All of my memories, dreams, and hopes were intact. I was an identical blueprint of my former self.
     Wonder replaced my shock at the full and total realization that I was no longer living.
     I went back up the steps and pushed my head through the closed door. The sun had set and the house was dark, except for the kitchen. The wall clock showed 8:45 P.M. Hours had passed in what I perceived as seconds.
     I stepped all the way through the door, looked for my reflection in the windows, and saw none. The curtains didn’t stir as I reached to brush them. The carpet didn’t scrunch under my feet.
     I headed into the kitchen. Glow cast by the overhead fluorescents heated my spirit flesh, but the discomfort was bearable. Ma sat at the table wearing her ratty blue robe. Her face looked chalky and devastated. Bone-white fingers gripped her coffee mug.
     “Ma,” I said.
     She didn’t respond, just stared ahead in a stupor.
     “Ma!”
     Her lips contorted with grief.
     “My husband and my son,” she muttered to the silence. “Both gone on the same day. Why? Why has this happened?”
     She started to sob.
     I stood in absolute shock. It had been two years since a stroke had left my father in a coma and needing constant care at Pine Brook Nursing Home. Ma and I did our best to keep him cared for and comfortable. I even got a before-school job at Pine Brook cooking breakfast three mornings a week so I could spend time with him, arriving early and talking to him before my shift started, hoping by some miracle that he’d respond. Say something to me. Anything. He never did.
     Ma dabbed at her eyes, raised the mug, sipped, and then set it, hands trembling, back onto the table. I reached around to hug her, but my arms passed through her body. I felt so alive… I momentarily forgot that I wasn’t.
     “I’ll be right back,” I said into her ear.
     I turned and walked through the drywall, through the insulation and vinyl siding, and into the night. Moonshine silvered the neighborhood. Crickets chirped. Moths fluttered dizzyingly and bumped the back porch light. A car droned down the street.
     The world was as it should be.
     When I stepped back through the wall, 10:30 P.M. beamed from the stove’s clock and Ma’s sobs emanated from upstairs.
     “You’re coming with me,” said a gravelly voice. “Your time on the Earthlevel is completed.”

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