Together Again

My husband was dead.

I could still see his body crumpled on the asphalt. Police sirens wailed and the ambulance arrived on scene. I flew down the stairs to the lobby floor, bursting through the front doors. But before I could see anything more. They took him away.

They questioned me. But I held no answers. I held no lies.

They ruled that I was innocent, and that I was free to go.

There were no signs of foul play. No signs of abuse. No signs of murder.

They left me there and I was relieved they were gone.

Jack was dead and I was heartbroken. His final words would continue to replay in my head like a broken record. "Emma, please take this leap of faith with me. Please come with me."

“Jack, please don’t leave me. Please stay here with me.”

I pleaded, I screamed, I cried, and I couldn't let go.

He was my partner. My husband. My love. My everything.

"We can have a better life. A life where we are free." He said to me.

“Please Jack! Don’t do this!”

“I’m sorry... But I have to.”

"Please don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me alone."

It wasn't enough.

No matter how hard I begged. No matter how hard I yelled. He wouldn’t turn to face me again. He stepped out onto our balcony ledge and jumped, plummeting 30 stories down to the street below.

My family, my friends, and now Jack. Were all gone.

I was alone. Alone in this cruel world.

There were no services held for Jack and his family was off the grid. There was no one to contact about his passing.

But then I met someone. Someone new. Someone I could talk to about anything. Someone who showed me that I could love again.

We found each other after I discovered a mysterious business card in Jack's coat pocket, and it led me to a secret gathering. A gathering of people who would share their stories. Stories of loss.

We weren't allowed to talk about it in public. The government believed that any spoken words of the subject were seen as a distraction from their contributions to The Overseer.

Who was The Overseer you might ask?

To be honest, I still don't know the answer. It was an entity that controlled us. It controlled our conversations, controlled our emotions, and controlled our lives.

Fear was their tool.

No one had seen this ‘Overseer’. No one had heard their voice. We were only told about them by our government leaders. We were told to trust their words.

 The Overseer was treated as a God by the many and viewed as a Demon by the few. Six days of the week were spent working 10 hour shifts to The Overseer’s demands and the seventh day was dedicated to worship - strictly enforced. Everyone in the city was required to go. Even the sick. If you were found not in attendance, then retribution was given. What kind? I'm not sure. And I was too afraid to find out.

But he showed me the light. He showed me the way.

He brought me to the rebel alliance that hid underground. He was their leader.

They called themselves The Believers. The Believers of truth. The Believers of tomorrow.

He was our inspiration and our mentor. He was amazing. But most importantly of all he was my husband.

Yes, you heard me correctly. I didn’t believe it at first either. I had watched him die, I cried, I mourned, but now he was back.

My husband was not dead. He was alive.

He returned. Not only for me, but for everyone else that was willing to follow. Willing to listen.

I listened.

He told me about the outside world. Told me what he found. He told me what he saw. How beautiful it was. How freeing. He told me there was a way out.

He convinced me.

Convinced me to take that leap of faith.

We climbed out onto the balcony ledge with our fingers intertwined.

This time we were together. This time we weren’t alone.

We held each other tight as gravity claimed us. The ground grew closer, and the wind rushed by.

This was our decision. This was our choice.

The odds were stacked against us, and life had consistently dealt us a bad hand.

This world was evil, and it was trying to tear us apart.

But we changed that.

This was our success. Our triumph. Our chance.

The cool air felt nice. It was relaxing. It was calming. It was freeing.

We were no longer held captive. No longer their slaves.

We were no longer fighting. No longer pretending. No longer hurting.

The pavement came up fast and everything went black. But with the death of one world, a new one was born.

We made it to the other side.

We found our way out of that prison and out of that simulation.

We didn’t have to live in fear. We didn’t have to live in isolation.

Finally, we were free. Finally, we were together. Finally, we were home.

But then, we decided to go back in.

To bring more people out. To bring more to a better life.

But the only way out was through death.

The thing we could not discuss. The thing that connected us. The thing that brought us here.

We were now living in the real world.

We had our conversations, our emotions, our life, and our love.

“Thank you,” he said.

“For what?” I replied.

“For taking this leap of faith with me.”

“I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.”

“I know.” He gave me the biggest grin.

“I love you.” I whispered.

“I love you too.”

We hugged and we kissed. We got married. We had kids.

The people decided that Jack would be our king and I would be their queen.

We were their leaders. We were their teachers.

We taught them to communicate and to share. To share their emotions. To share their thoughts.

We taught them to embrace. To embrace change. To embrace each other. To embrace love.

We taught them compassion, we taught them empathy, and we taught them kindness.

We taught them to never judge, never fear, and never stay silent.

There was no more negativity. No more politics. No more hate.

More people joined us. People who lived in this world far longer than we had.

People we thought we had lost forever. Family and friends.

We were reunited.

We were together again.