Death 101

I accidentally died the other day. And do you know what? It didn’t come with a manual. Shouldn’t there be a manual? I’m used to everything having a “How to…”, a YouTube tutorial, “Haunting for Dummies” even. But no. Heart stops, here you are, don’t forget your towel. 

So far it’s been a whirlwind of adjustments. Once I realized I was dead, as I stood by my body, I wasn’t sure if I should just hang out for a while there or if I needed to check in somewhere? Again, no manual. Was there a Hotel Death awaiting my check-in with a mint on the pillow? 

I had been sick for several days, so urgent care prescribed an antibiotic. I looked forward to feeling better soon, but apparently I had some sort of reaction to it and things went drastically in the other direction. And here I am. Or, am not? In between? I really didn’t know. 

I decided to wander, so said goodbye to my body and headed outside. Can I walk through doors now? Yes! Well that’s pretty neat.

I walked through the door and it appeared life was going on as usual despite my death. Would the news station show up at my door? Would there be an investigation? Could I somehow fulfill that promise of vengeance upon my college roommate I made years ago and frame her for my death?! Oh the possibilities seemed endless! 

I was considering how to frame my ex-roommate when an older man rushed right through me. It was the strangest feeling. As he passed through my now lifeless body, a rush of vibrations traveled from head to toe and it seemed that the experiences of his lifetime meshed with mine, and I could sense what he was thinking and feeling. He was late. He was in a hurry, and blamed his dog Barkster because he took too long finding an acceptable spot to do his business this morning. Then his coffee spilled on his briefcase as he was grabbing his bagel, and now he was about to be very late for a very important meeting. I felt bad for the guy. I sensed he was a good man, as I had seen his lifetime play out in my head at rabbit-speed playback when he passed through. 

I decided to follow him. Could I possibly do something to help? Maybe have a ghostly intervention on his behalf? 

I saw the building he worked in just ahead, and rushed to the large main entry. I saw the man who Robert (my new friend) was supposed to be meeting. This man looked all business, stern face, wrinkles filled with determination and power. He was jabbing repeatedly at the elevator button, no doubt on his way up to the meeting room on the 8th floor where Robert worked. I floated through the closed doors of the elevator. In no time, the elevator had arrived and the doors began to open to let Mr. Bigshot in. I had no idea if I could manipulate things in the living world in my newly found state, but I tried anyway. I closed my eyes and concentrated as I pressed the “doors close” button. To my delight and Mr. Bigshot’s dismay, it worked! 

“What the…?” 

Mr. Bigshot pounded the “Up” button again, the doors began to open, and I pressed the “close” button again. This was highly amusing! 

We continued our game until finally Mr. Bigshot got so aggravated, he yelled over to the main desk in the lobby that someone needed to come and fix the elevator before he’s late for his meeting. 

Meanwhile, I glanced at the doorway and saw Robert assessing the situation. He took off to the stairs, and climbed the 8 floors as if his job depended on it. (It kinda did.)

I continued to close the doors, then decided to just send the elevator up to the 12th floor, and stop at every floor on the way down to give Robert some time to prepare. In the lobby, Mr. Bigshot was on his cell calling Robert’s boss to let him know he would be a few minutes late to their meeting. 

I floated up the elevator shaft to the 8th floor, found Robert casually sipping a coffee with all his documents in order on the conference room table. Crisis averted. 

So, now what? 

I decided I liked the idea of helping people out where I could. I went back to the street and walked around some more. I spotted a woman who looked to be about my age, blindly walking down the sidewalk toward a crosswalk and looking around in her purse for something. I made my way over, and she passed through me. I felt the rush of vibrations, but this time something about it felt different. Rather than see the person’s past, Deanna was her name, I saw her future. I saw her crossing the very street we were on, and not seeing the car that was about to turn the corner. The driver was checking his phone for a message he had just received, and took his eyes off the road for just a second. But long enough not to see Deanna and hit her. I saw her in the hospital and everyone around her crying. I saw the family leave and the sheet pulled up over her face. 

I didn’t know what to do. Could I stop this from happening? Could I make her pay attention and give her more time in her life? I felt as if I needed to try. 

Quickly as I could, I went into her purse, took out her wallet, and threw it to the ground. She was just about at the corner, ready to cross. I waited to see if she’d notice, if she’d stop long enough to pick it up and let the car go by before it hit her. 

“Ugh! How did I drop that?” she said, stopping to pick up her wallet. As she put it back in her purse, she stopped again.

“There it is!” she said as she pulled out a business card for a hair salon and typed the address into her phone. 

Just then, the black car that was about to end her life sailed by safely, avoiding contact with anyone or anything. 

Deanna crossed the road, having found what she was looking for, and most likely made it to her hair appointment rather than the hospital today.  

Is this how guardian angels work? I wasn’t quite sure, but I decided it was how I wanted to spend my afterlife. Now, if only I could find the manual…