I Died Last Night

I died last night. Sweat was pouring down my back, my heart thumping in my chest as I shot up in my bed. I had not come home last night. My body lying cold and broken at the foot of a cliff in the California desert.

I had been night hiking, my go-to routine when my insomnia kept me up. I preferred, no, had preferred the nocturnal quiet, the dark solitude of traversing an empty landscape that the sun had left hours ago. No one around but me.

My alarm clock was blaring on my phone, with each piercing bleep seeming more angrier than the last. It was almost fifteen minutes after I was initially supposed to wake up and prepare for work. I pressed the “Stop” button on my phone, and the sound that had once greeted me every morning went away, leaving me alone with my breathing. For a brief moment, I wondered how I should react to the realization of my death. Should I break down into hysterical sobs? Maybe just a couple of tears? I was late for work, and being too dead was just as good an excuse as being too sick to work. 

But I couldn’t lose this job. Not another one. I needed the money.

Skipping breakfast and donning questionable-smelling clothes from my laundry hamper, I rushed out my apartment and fortunately caught a bus as it was just leaving. 

Once seated in the back, I pulled out my phone and started going through my social media feed. I wasn’t too sure what I was looking for; maybe some kind of acknowledgment of my recent passing. Perhaps a post from one of my family members, announcing that I had gone to a better place, with comments replete with praying and dove emojis, plenty of rips. But there was nothing so far, and I realized it was too early to look. No one should be able to know I was dead just yet. It might even take a few days before anyone noticed I was gone. Maybe I should speed things up a little.

“I died last night,” I typed, and clicked publish.

My bus made its way through the city, and I lifted my eyes from my phone screen to take in a city I’d never get to see again. For all its hazy grubbiness, I found that I enjoyed all its color, from the soaring green leaves of the swaying palms and the pinks and purples of blooming regional flowers, to the artificial blues and reds of murals painted or sprayed on brick walls.

The bus announced the next stop on its route, my stop. I checked my post to see if it had gotten any engagement. A laughing emoji with tearing up eyes from my uncle. Someone was currently typing up a comment, but I had to put my phone away to get off the bus.

Once I got up to my workplace I was almost immediately reprimanded by my boss, Pete. He was walking by the entrance of the office when I walked in. 

“Benson, you’re late,” he started as we walked together. I hated how he used my last name. He did that for everyone at the office, no matter how many times we told him he could use our first names.

“Sorry Pete, I was late because… I died. Just last night,” I said, surprising myself with how forthright I was compared to usual.

We had arrived at his office door, but Pete was only half listening as he stared down at his phone. 

“You certainly look like you did. Had too much to drink Benson?” he said as he opened his door. “Get to work, alright? You’ll feel much better, trust me.”

The door closed, leaving me alone in the hall. I rubbed at my face, feeling as if yesterday was still today. But it couldn’t have been. I had died last night. Everything was different. Forever now.

Putting my passing out of my mind for the time being, I did as my boss recommended and got to work. I worked for a cyber security firm, shoring up the firewalls and defenses of other corporations and clients. It wasn’t the most fun job I ever had, but definitely the best paying one. 

I suddenly realized then that it didn’t matter anymore. I could make all the money in the world and it wouldn’t matter to my decaying corpse somewhere in the desert hills of California. I’d have to get my will in order, all my measly belongings would have to go to someone. I checked on my “I died last night” post and saw who had been writing a comment. My mother had said, “I’m sorry to hear that dear. I hope you’re doing well. Come home soon, we miss you.”

I shut off my computer and was getting up when a coworker of mine, Angela, came to peer over my cubicle wall.

“Hey Benson,” she said. I didn’t mind her calling me by my last name.

“Oh hey, hey Angela,” I said, packing my bag and doing my best to keep the rush of blood to my face at a minimum. 

“Where you going?” she asked me.

“Oh I’m going to see a lawyer. I’ve got to get my will in order.”

“Your will? Isn’t it a bit early for that?”

“It’s a bit late actually,” I said.

“Well, I guess it’s better late than ever. Do you have any plans for after you get your affairs in order?”

“Uh no, no plans.”

“Then why don’t you swing by Donna’s place? She’s having a little get-together for the staff. You know, pizza and beer. That kind of thing.”

Before I had died I would’ve politely denied the request, preferring to melt into my chair at home and sink hours into gaming. I had beer and pizza at home either way.

But today, I accepted. It’s amazing, the confidence being dead gives you.

“Sure, why not?” I said.

“Great! See you tonight then,” said Angela. It warmed my heart to see her smile. I kicked myself inwardly at the fact that I had told her I was going to get my will done. 

I left work, making sure to quickly dash past my boss’s office without full-on sprinting. I did a quick search on my phone for a lawyer nearby and found one just down the street. Even without an appointment, I was able to get a sit-down with Mr. Carmizzo, a portly man who was eating a tuna sandwich when I walked in. He didn’t lift up his head when I walked in, just shifted his eyes to look above his glasses as I came in.

“So, you’re here to do your will eh? Bit young for that.”

“You’re never too old to die,” I pointed out. I earned a chuckle for that.

We spent the next hour or so going through my assets and belongings, everything that was under my name and would go to another. I told him I wanted it all to go to my older sister. We hadn’t talked in years. 

“And one more thing I want to give her,” I said before leaving Mr. Carmizzo’s office. “Can I have some pen and paper?” After he handed me his greasy pen and his notepad, which was stamped with his firm’s name at the top, I set to writing my last communication with my sister.

Dear Heather,

I don’t know your number, or where you even live. I guess it’s too late for that, since I’ll still be dead by the time you read this. I was hiking alone. I know, I know, you used to tell me not to do that. And wouldn’t you know it, you were right! lol

Anyways, I’m leaving it all to you, as little as it all is. You and Jamie, right? I heard you two got married. That’s awesome. I never got to congratulate you before I died. I’m sorry. For all of it. I hope you are happy, cause I think I am now.

Your brother,

Benny Boy

I handed the note to Mr. Carmizzo, who took it and read it once over. He nodded, as if he approved of the message.

I left the lawyer’s place and checked the time on my phone. I’d be a little late, but would make my co-worker Donna’s place nonetheless. I could’ve taken transit, but decided catching an Uber would be faster. An older man nearby named Joseph came to get me. His car smelt slightly of cigarettes, and he had the accent of someone from Haiti or somewhere else in the Caribbean. 

Without incident, Joseph delivered me to Donna’s apartment building, a sleek and modern structure in the heart of downtown. I gave him a huge tip, seeing as I wouldn’t need much money anymore.

“Thank you sir,” said Joseph turning to look at me before I got out his car.

“No problem, have a good one!” I said.

“See you later!” I heard him say before I closed the door. 

“Yeah, see you,” I said to the empty space where the car had been only a moment ago. I probably wouldn’t be seeing a lot of people anymore.

I went up to Donna’s apartment and was surprised to see that I was warmly welcomed by my co-workers, especially Angela. She appeared to be positively beaming when she caught sight of me. That made me being there more than worth it. I was handed a beer, but declined it for a coke. I didn’t want to get too blasted. I still had something to do tonight.

Even Pete was there, who graciously didn’t say anything about me leaving work early today, if he even knew about it. He seemed an entirely different person at the party, still calling everyone by their last names of course. Maybe the habit of a military career in his past. I asked him about it and he said no, he hadn’t ever served.

We played some games throughout the night, and had conversations about anything and everything. Angela and I drifted towards each other, and found that I didn’t want to do anything but talk to her. I told her about my sister, as if I was still in regular contact with her. I admitted that I hadn’t actually talked to her in years, and that I had left everything to her in my will. Angela narrowed her eyes at me about the will again, as if I was joking, but seemed to understand the estranged family part. She told me about her own testy familial relationships, broken for years after leaving the faith of her childhood.

The night was getting late, and the party attendants only getting rowdier. Looking out the window of Donna’s 23rd floor, I saw that the sun had begun to kiss the horizon. It was the time I usually headed out for a hike.

“I’ve gotta go,” I told Angela. “There’s something I still have to do.”

“You already did your will today. I’d say that’s a lot for one day.”

“It wasn’t that bad actually. I don’t have a lot of stuff.”

“So what other all-important errands do you have to do today? Since you’re convinced you’re gonna die tomorrow.”

I hesitated, but I finally admitted it. “I actually died last night.”

She snorted, beer spilling from her nostrils as she laughed and coughed at the same time. I gave her a napkin and felt my face reddening even as hers did. 

“Oh geeze, I’m sorry. I wasn’t laughing at you, I swear. You just said it so dead-panned that I couldn’t help it.”

“I guess it’s pretty funny if you think about it.”

“So what were you gonna do, eh Mr. Zombie?”

“Ever been on a hike at night?”

Ten minutes later Angela and I were getting into an Uber, having said our goodbyes to Donna and the rest of our co-workers at the party. When our driver came, I was surprised to see it was Joseph again. We had a hearty laugh over that and he took us out of the city limits, and into the hilly desert outside the city.

The sun had long since dropped behind the rim of the Earth, leaving the world in a late-stage golden hour of pink and orange skies. It was a beautiful night for a hike, and we would hardly need a flashlight.

At some point, Angela took my hand during the hike, and I took much comfort in the warmth of it, the aliveness of her existence tangled with my own. It also hurt, knowing that I’d never get to experience this again. We didn’t talk much during our walk on the upward trail; it seemed somehow profane to interrupt the song of crickets with our voices.

We got to the place where I had slipped and fallen, a steep hill with a rocky bottom dozens of feet below. I didn’t look down at first, keeping my eyes to a sky now dark blue and dotted with pinprick stars. Angela and I stood together, hands still intertwined between our bodies.

“I can see the appeal,” whispered Angela, stars reflecting in her eyes.

“Yeah. It’s nice to… share it. I usually go alone,” I admitted, glancing down into the darkness at my body. I couldn’t quite make it out.

“How come?” asked Angela, turning away from the stars and into my eyes.

“Because… because I never asked someone to come with me.”

“Well, thank you Benson. Thank you for sharing this. Although technically none of this really belongs to you,” she said, gesturing to the majesty before us. There was silence after that, which she broke by laughing. I joined in.

“Well it’s… kind of mine,” I said after our laughter died out. I searched for the right way to describe what I meant. “I don’t own anything here. Not the sand or the crickets or the stars. But it’s mine in some… way. You know? I walked up here and lived here, for a moment in time. And now it’s yours to live.”

“But you’re still alive. I’m here. You don’t have to give it away.”

I hesitated for a moment, debating whether I should shine my flashlight onto the scene below to reveal my corpse.

I decided against it.

“There’s still so much I haven’t done, won’t be able to do anymore now that I’m… gone,” I said, tears finally slipping from my eyes. I let go of Angela’s hand to wipe at my face and staunch the flow.

I then felt Angela’s hands gently take mine away from my face. She wiped my wet cheeks with her thumb and then cupped my face in her hands.

“Then let’s go do it all. Everything. And if we can’t, we can’t. And that’s okay,” she said, kissing my forehead.

I took a deep, shuddering breath, filling my lungs to brim with desert air. I took one more look at the starry sky, ignoring the dark depths below us.

“Okay,” I said.