Tell Me, What Was It Like To Die?

Tell me, what it was like to die?

What the hell are you talking about?

Oh, you don’t remember?

Remember what?

Your death.

I died…? I’m dead?

Well, where do you think you are?

It looks like a black hole. This is death?

This is death. 

I can’t believe I am dead.

Now, what was it like to die?

Who are you? An angel? A demon?

You don’t recognize me? I’m your baby sister. I died at the age of two. Got hit by a car.

Yes, I remember that day. You were the cutest little thing ever with your squishy cheeks, brown eyes, and brown pigtails. Mom wouldn’t leave her bed for days. I was thirteen at the time. It was the worst year of my life. I really miss you.

I miss you too. But we are together now. What was it like to die? What’s the last thing you remember?

Umm…it was summer, and I was sitting on the couch. It was scorching hot, and I was home alone.

What year?

2017? No, no. It was definitely 2019.

Good. What were you doing?

I was reading a book for school. The Great Gatsby.

And…?

Well, I was in chapter four and my phone dinged so naturally, I went to pick it up. Mom texted me.

What did she say?

She told me to get to the basement immediately. I thought it was strange that she was texting instead of calling. She always hated texting. I called her twice and she didn’t pick up. I grabbed my phone and raced to the basement where I locked the door and turned on the light. The basement always creeped me out, so I settled down in the corner.

Did mom explain to you what was going on?

I…I…I don’t remember.

Think harder.

Er…I texted her… and asked what was going on. I asked if my life was in danger or if there was a tornado or something like that? I asked where she was.

What did she say?

She said that everything was going to be all right. And that she was on her way home.

That doesn’t make sense. Why did she tell you to go to the basement?

I think it was to protect me. I begged her to tell me what was going on because I was terrified and confused. She took a while to respond but said that bad people were coming to steal her research and use it for something bad. I asked her what ‘something bad’ was but she never said.

Research? Mom was a scientist? What was her research about?

Yes. It was brain research. She found a way to…to…do something. I can’t remember.

It doesn’t matter. That’s not super important. What happened next?

I asked where she was and after several minutes, she didn’t answer. So, I called her, and again she didn’t answer. I blew up her phone with a million texts and calls, but she still didn’t respond and I was starting to get more worried than I already was.

Why wasn’t she answering?

I…don’t know. She hated texting and driving, but in a situation like this, other things would be more important. I waited in the basement corner for hours, not making a single sound. Nothing happened. I dozed off and fell into a troubled sleep. I woke up when a door banged shut somewhere above. I remember thinking that it might be mom.

Please tell me you didn’t leave the basement.

Unfortunately, I cannot tell you that. In all of my swelling hope, I turned off my brain and ran upstairs. I shouted for mom as I ran from room to room. Nobody answered and dread settled in the pit of my stomach. Then…then…I…don’t know.

You can’t leave me hanging! Think harder. What did you do when no one answered? You hid, right? That would have been the smart thing to do.

I…hid behind the couch.

What an awful hiding spot! There wasn’t a closet or something like that nearby?

Hey, I only had a moment's notice! The closest closet was near the front door and that’s the last place I wanted to be. There were no more sounds and I peeked my head around the corner of the couch to see. No one was there. I thought for a second that I was being silly or that it was just a big elaborate prank. Before I could stand up…

Before you could stand up…what? What? The suspense is killing me!

There were footsteps behind me. I heard a gun go off and felt pain explode in my upper back, near my neck. Someone shot me. I slumped on the ground, unable to move. The bullet must have severed a nerve or my spine or something. The world blurred a bit and I couldn’t hear anything. I had the sensation that I was screaming or crying but I didn’t hear anything and I couldn’t feel anything besides the pain in my back. It was awful, burning pain. The worst pain I had ever felt. Nothing compares. I never want to feel like that again. To feel helpless.

Do you know who shot you? Was it one of the bad guys mom warned you about?

I…do. It wasn’t one of the bad guys. It was…it was…

Who? Who?

Mom. It was mom who shot me.

Mom shot you? Why would she shoot you?

Well, I don’t think she meant to. She dropped the gun and ran to my side and laid my head in her lap, rocking me back and forth.

If she was upset she shot you, then why did she do it in the first place?

She was saying something and crying but, again, I couldn’t hear anything. I think she thought I was someone else and shot me but soon realized her mistake. And then…nothing. I’m thinking really hard but there is nothing after that.

That’s when you died.

That’s when I died. I wonder what mom did with my body. I wonder if the bad guys came to the house. I wonder what she told the cops. She must feel extremely guilty. I have so many questions. Why were people trying to get her research? What were they going to do with it? Why did she own a gun? Where did she hide this gun? Why didn’t she answer any of my texts or calls?

We’ll have to wait till she shows up here before we get any answers.

Here? You mean, death? We have to wait until she dies before we get any answers?

Yes. We have to wait until she dies.

That could be a long time.

Yeah, it could be. I’ve been waiting a long time for you to get here. In the meantime, tell me more about the world.