Frozen Over

My eyes open to see dots of white plummeting directly at them. I tilt my head to dodge the snow coming at me, the flakes instead hitting my cheeks. With my head tilted to the side, I take the opportunity to look around. I can barely see five feet ahead of me, but the realization hits me. I have no idea where I am. In an attempt to ground myself, I check in with my body. I notice my back feels cold and damp. My hands and feet are completely numb. My arms and legs are covered in snow, as if I am lying in my final resting place and gravediggers had been pouring dirt over my lifeless body. Looking down to see if hypothermia has consumed my body, I see I’m still wearing the same outfit I had before I blacked out. A tight red sleeveless dress and fishnets. Not quite an outfit well-equipped for the snow, exposing a lot of skin, yet I am not cold. Remarkably, there isn’t a single hint of frostbite on me. 

I bolt upright, the snow sliding off of my body. I take a deep breath in but I could feel no air within my lungs. The daggers from the cold air stab my nose but leave no sensation beyond there. Something seems really off, but I can’t quite tell what it is. My anxiety begins to rise and I start to hyperventilate. Well, my body begins to act as if it’s hyperventilating, with my chest raising up and down quickly and my stomach collapsing underneath it. I impulsively go to check my heart rate as I have in many panic attacks before, aiming to answer the same question that always arises. Am I genuinely having a heart attack, or is my brain just freaking out? 

I press down on my wrist, and just like with breathing, I feel nothing. I shift my fingers slightly on my arm and all I can feel is my icy skin beneath it. After bouncing around my forearm a bit, I decide this isn’t the best course of action. My fingers fly up to my neck and search for my heartbeat there. Nothing. The hyperventilating sensation gets worse as I scan for answers in my mind as to what could possibly be going on. In shock, my body freezes in place when it all clicks. What happened after I blacked out all makes sense. The lack of a frostbite. The lack of a breath. The lack of a pulse. The lack of a life.

This is never what I imagined the afterlife looking like. I was never quite sure what it could have looked like. Secretly, I’ve always wanted to know what happens after we die. Despite my curiosity, I was a firm believer in “to each their own” mantras. You believe in reincarnation? Cool. You believe in Heaven? That’s cool, too. You believe in a flying spaghetti monster in the sky? Whatever floats your boat. I met folks from all walks of life who believed all different things, and every person, in their own way, was valid. However, I never once met someone that believed once you died, you would be met with a blizzard all around you. Yet, that is the predicament I find myself in.

Dusting the rest of the snowy powder off of me, I slowly get up and take to my feet. I may not know where I am but I’ll be damned if I didn’t try to figure out where I was. I stumble like a baby fawn, legs giving out under me with every other step. I’m going to find out where I am if it’s the last thing I do. Yet, I realize that there is no “last thing I do” anymore. There is one thing consistent in most afterlife beliefs--eternity. So I guess I have all the time in the world, or all the time wherever I am. I find my footing and keep pushing forward.

In life, I never gave up on anything. I was persistent. My mother always told me, “if you want something, go out and get it,” and get it I did. Some called me stubborn, but I call myself determined. It wasn’t always easy, but I made sure to surround myself with the riches of the earth. I had a great group of friends who cherished me and my wallet. I made sure they were always taken care of, whether I covered their next round or paid for their next month’s rent. Many men who loved me called upon my company and I never spent a night alone. When a partner held me close, the warmth between us thawed everything but our shared passion. Drinks overflowed as we would dance our cares away, glasses of champagne and hands always raised to the sky. I saw a good time I wanted, and I chased after it. My anxiety may have come close to stopping me many times. The voices in my head would always play tricks on me, telling me I was never good enough. Though, If I was never good enough, how come I had everything a person could ever want? 

However, they are all gone now, and what I am left with is the bane of my existence. That familiar anxiety I felt in life is now chasing me in death. Trudging forward, this blizzard seems endless. The storm has picked up; the wind is now blasting in my ears and my vision is clouded by sheets of snow. The pit in my stomach grows. Am I doomed to wander these white plains until the end of time? This cannot be the answer. No. It can’t be. I refuse to let this be my fate. I am a good person. I persevered through my anxieties and its obstacles and I am going to get what is due to me. I deserve to have a happy ending away from my fears. I refuse to let this voice be right. I am not going to let my anxiety win.

Yet, my hopes are slowly fading away. With every direction looking the absolute same, there’s no way to know if I’m truly lost. The feeling of hyperventilation comes back as the fear of reality sets in. It’s just me and my thoughts out here. I let out a guttural scream into the void, hoping to hear another voice back. I faintly hear the echo of my own voice over the sound of the wind. Part of me knows I’m not going to hear another voice out here. A pitiful cry escapes my lips before I fall to my knees. I begin to gently weep, and the absence of tears makes it all the more unsettling. I am dead, alone, and destined to a terrible fate. I am Moses wandering in the desert for 40 years, except in my situation, my search for a promised land is never going to end. This is it. 

Just as I go to wipe my face of its nonexistent tears, I sense a hand wiping them for me. “It is okay, my child.” The voice is calming, yet authoritative. Its depth warms me, and immediately, I feel safe. I look up and see a figure dressed in all white. From the tie of his suit to the tip of his shoes, there is not a spot on his clothing. Pure. His demeanor carries great weight and his stature upholds his level of importance. I am in awe. While examining him, I hear his voice again. “Come now, get up, young one.”

He extends his hand out to me and I take it. With one swoop, he pulls me up off of the icy floor. My cheeks heat up and I feel so flustered as I find myself in the company of the most handsome man I have ever seen. My eyes hit about his jawline, the most chiseled I have ever encountered. His angled cheekbones match, drawing a perfect line towards his soft lips. He takes his hand through his raven hair, laying it down in a perfect position. When I finally bring myself to look into his eyes, I find them piercing back into my own. Just like in the blizzard, I find myself lost in his warm brown gaze. I’m so enamored by this man everything else fades away. 

“Are you with me?” he inquires. 

“What?” I ask, genuinely missing the question. I don’t recognize this feeling. No man on Earth made me feel this way before. It wasn’t quite lust, but wasn’t quite love. But I know that he is pure perfection.

“My child, are you with me?” His lips become pursed as he stares at me. His tone is concerned, as if I were somehow going to slip away from him.

“Well, yes, I’m here with you right now.” I giggle a bit as I answer. I can finally feel some semblance of joy knowing that I have been found by another man who will protect me. 

“No, that’s not what I mean. Are you with me? Are you one of mine?” Raising a brow, he tilts his head as if trying to coax an answer out of me. I still don’t know where I am, let alone if I belong to him. I want to belong to him. I bite my lower lip and dart my eyes, as if trying to search for an answer in the snow. 

“I’m not sure what you mean by ‘one of mine’. I don’t even know who you are or where I am. All I know is that you have saved me from the storm and I am so grateful for you.”

He lets out a small chuckle and sucks his teeth. “Aww, little darling, of course you do not know where you are. Come with me.”

With a wave of his hand, the blizzard ceases and the surroundings become much clearer. Or rather, the lack of surroundings. There is nothing for miles around us with the exception of this small hill up ahead. The snow is now falling ever so slowly to the ground below, the light wind blowing the flakes. The ground is painted white and acts as a reflection of the moon, finally visible with the lack of storm clouds. The man takes my hand in his own and gestures towards the hill.

“Let us go to the top of that hill. I think it is time for you and I to have an important conversation.”

Linked arm in arm with him, I suddenly feel a burst of energy. A burst of hope. A wave of calm flows over me that I haven’t felt since I was a child. My questions were finally going to be answered. Where do we go after we die? Where am I, specifically? Which religions' indoctrinations are right? Any secret of the universe that has ever existed, I would have the answer to. I wanted them all. A fear of not knowing crippled me in life, and with all the answers, my anxiety will just wash away. This is going to be the cure. Maybe this is what I deserved and how I was going to be happy. 

After what simultaneously seems like five seconds and five years, we make it through the field and to the top of the hill. He unwinds himself from me, eyes scanning the distance. He readjusts his collar and corrects his posture, as if getting ready to give a presentation. Taking a moment’s pause, he looks down at me and smiles. “Take a look with me, my child. This is life after death.” 

Although vacant, the scene is still radiant from the moonlight. A sense of serenity washes over me. The light from the sky juxtaposed against its darkness brought a balance to the picture. It was quiet and not a single sound could be heard. It was pure bliss, and with that, my earned peace. I had done it. Just like I always had. I had persevered, and made it through to the end. This was now my time to reap the benefits. Yet, something about it all did not feel right. It was almost as if everything was too calm. The familiar pit in my stomach began to grow.

“So, this is the afterlife?” I ask the figure.

“Yes, this is one of many,” he elaborates. “Each person tailors their own afterlife with a mix of their own personal beliefs and their actions on Earth. In a way, every religion is correct. The energy of the universe manifests itself into the mind of the person, forming itself to match their reality. Tell me, my dear, what is it you believed?”

There are so many right answers I could pull here, and yet nothing felt right to say. If I answer incorrectly, I could be paying for it with the essence of my being. My lips bumble, barely able to stammer out an answer.

“I never picked a belief system. You see, I-”

“Was scared of being wrong?”

I’m taken aback. I haven’t the slightest clue how to respond. I can't make eye contact with him, so I avert his gaze any way I can. Doing so, I look down behind us and at the foot of the hill is a frozen lake with a wall of mist in the middle. This sparks more questions for him and I want to ask them. Yet, just a simple one of his stopped me dead in my tracks. This man is divine; he is all-knowing, yet asks me questions. It takes a moment to realize he’s not asking me; he’s telling me because he sees right through me. I wanted to open my mouth, but when I try to speak no sound comes out. All I can do is nod my head in agreement.

“Ah, humans and their proneness to anxiety. What fickle little creatures you are. Like I have said, you decide what you get. What I forgot to mention is while everyone tailors their own afterlife, they still fall into the regions of ‘good’ or ‘bad’. Some call it ‘Heaven’ or ‘Hell’. Whatever the name, it brings a force of balance to the universe. One part is on one side of that frozen lake, and we are on the other. You just have to walk through the mist of morality to get to the other side. Only those worthy may walk the ice without cracks.” This hunger opens up inside of me. All of my questions fade away as my mind fixates on one.

“And which side am I on?” As soon as I ask he seems offended. His handsomeness fades as a wicked look comes about him, and with it, my sense of security fades too.

“That is something that mortals are never supposed to know! It is kept this way so that everyone gets what is due to them without being none the wiser.” Folding his arms, he becomes more stern with me. 

“No. I demand to know. I am in the afterlife and I deserve to know. Which side am I on? Am I in Heaven or Hell? Because I know I am a good person and I should be in Heaven but it sure doesn’t seem like--”

“That is enough!” He cuts me off, suddenly looming over me. I am 10 inches tall underneath him. He starts walking into me as I back away. “Have you not been listening to me? You are a fickle, mortal being. You are not worthy of knowing. You think you are a good person? All you did in life was step all over people and hurt them chasing your own self interests. Trying to fill the void your anxiety created. And now look at you! Chasing after your next want is going to be your demise! You want to know how you died? You were murdered in a crime of passion! You were caught by a lover in the arms of another! Your anxiety of being wrong and your need to have it all left you hopping from man to man. Your fear caused your demise! It is not just your religious beliefs, but your self belief that creates your reality. Where do you think you are? Because wherever it is, when I get my hands on you, I will make sure your soul is where it belongs. You are with me, forever!”

As the man backs me down off of the hill, I look back towards the lake and the mist and look back into his eyes, which were not the once warm brown eyes I knew but pure black. Chasing me down, I look at my own feet and realize that his feet are thawing the snow underneath him with every step, small flames bursting from his soles. It’s evident where I am. For once my anxiety is right. We arrive at the lakeside and my heel meets the shore of the frozen lake, trapping me in place. I look back at the mist once again.

“They’ll never accept you there! You’ll be crawling back to me because you know I treat you the way you deserve! You think I hate you? Just wait until you see the truth!” 

His words directly mirror my anxiety. It’s now or never and I have a decision to make. Do I give in, or do I chase what I want? I turn and lightly place my foot down. The ice cracks under the pressure of my toes, and I lift my foot. His stare pierces the back of my head. In my gut, I know there is ultimately no other option left. I cannot stay and let my anxiety win. I put my foot back down, stepping full weight onto the lake. I have to make a break for it. Hell has frozen over, and I am going to get what I deserve.