The Colonial

  • Nov 7, 9:50 pmAdd us on Twitter @HumansOfBoro

Messenger

Samantha MacGowan, Staff Writer

Hang on for a minute...we're trying to find some more stories you might like.


Email This Story






White. Everything. The light was blinding. I could feel the white beams of energy burning my retinas as I looked into the afterlife. My family cried out to hold on, but I knew my strength to hold onto life was gone. It was only a matter of time till the pain would be over, I kept thinking. I shut my eyes, blocking out the light. Curling up into a ball, I drifted into the light, not daring to open them.

“Umm?” A light voice echoed in the emptiness. Jumping up and opening my eyes, I see a cloaked white-figure peers up at me. The figure looked at me, concerned. Large golden wings unfolded as the shape joined me in the now-black nothingness.

“Who are you? Why is it so dark?” I ask the figure. The cloaked figure shakes its head and chuckles.

Of course, I had no clue where I was. I had just died and now I am in some strange, white place?

I was thoroughly confused and the amused figure wasn’t helping. Not one bit.

“I am what you humans call ‘Death’” That was a shock. I expected ‘Death’ to be, well, dark and mysterious? And probably male.

“ This is the afterlife.” They say in a foreign accent, barely audible. I can tell the figure can see my shock. It looked like it either wanted to strangle me or laugh at me.

“I am very similarly built to you humans, of course.” It says as if she was stating something to a child.

“I am what you humans called ‘female’? I think that was it.” Death sounded puzzled. I tried to rearrange my face into a not-so-shocked face, but Death continued to look confused.

God, I sure am an idiot. Barely know her for five minutes and I’ve already confused us both.

“Sorry,” I blurted out at last “I just imagined, you to look more ‘DEATH’!” Death cocked her head at me.

She had angelic gold eyes and pink-red lips. Black and gray strands of hair shifted ever so slightly as she tilted her head.

I’m not going to lie, she was attractive. I wanted to be angry at her for being better looking than me, but she still had to answer a few-many-questions.

“What do you mean?” She said. Her accent was so weird, like nothing I’ve ever heard. To me, it seemed like a bizarre mix of British, Scottish, and Slovak.

“We, umm, humans all think death is all dark and mysterious.” I add on awkwardly “….and male” Death lets out an odd chuckle.

She motions towards me and strides towards a destination I didn’t know of.

I walk quietly behind her unsure, but I try to not seem anxious. I knew I was failing miserably.

I was a walking ball of awkwardness.

After what seemed like centuries, we come upon a small living room-like area.

The three chairs and sofa were the same shade of gray as Death’s hair. I cautiously take a seat on one of the three chairs, and Death positions herself on the sofa. I awkwardly wiggle around, nervous energy at her sitting so close bouncing off of me.

She was a very beautiful young lady, such as myself.

Just kidding, I can’t compete.

Dark freckles speckled across her nose, adding extra color to her already darkish skin.

“So-” she states suddenly, and I leap up in my seat, startled at the sudden noise.

God, I wish I hadn’t done that.

“So,” she begins again, with a look of confused concern “Every creature that has died, such as yourself, gets to ask one question. I must reply with complete honesty.”

I ponder for a moment, wondering what to ask. Death looked across at the empty blackness, her face fixed in a tired expression.

“Usually you humans ask simple questions,” she states, sounding bored “‘What’s next?’ or ‘Where is my family?’ or other boring questions.”

“Not that it is bad to ask those questions!” She anxiously adds “It is quite reasonable to ask what is afterlife or where your fam-” She doesn’t have a chance to finish her startled words before I interrupt her.

“Death, what do you remember?” I question, my voice light and curious. Death’s eyes reflect my curiosity, but her face is fixed in a startled expression.

“Wh-what?” She whispers, confusion etched across her face.

“What do you remember Death. Life’s greatest stories.” I repeat, trying to get the meaning of my question to be clear to her.

“I must admit, I was honestly shocked. I’ve never heard that before.” She replies steadily

“That wasn’t obvious,” I say “I never would’ve guessed!” I say in a judgemental and sarcastic voice. Death glances at me, looking hurt. Doesn’t she know about sarcasm? I kinda feel bad.

“Sorry….” I feebly apologize. Hey, maybe I’ll find other girls in the afterlife. Maybe.

She wipes the hurt off her face.

“No matter. I shall tell you the most memorable stories.” Death declared, “On one condition.”

“Anything, I was always a sucker for a storyteller,” I say. Death’s eyes are scrunched with confusion.

“You must become a messenger for the afterlife.” She states.

“A what?” I question.

“A messenger. Someone to deliver messages from here to the deceased or to the Gods.” She answered, her tone indicating that she expected me to know these things.

“THE GODS,” I yell. I fall backward over the dark gray armchair. Death jumps in her seat, quickly going over to me. I thought she had the intent of helping me up, as I am upside-down and very stuck.

But instead, Death starts laughing hysterically, snorting along with her giggles.

“I appreciate your help,” I say sarcastically.

Death is still laughing when I straighten my skirt and righted myself, desperately trying to regain my dignity.

I stand straight up, glaring down at her as she is leaning against the chair I fell off of.

Finally, Death calms herself down.

“So…?” Death questions.

I nod quickly, not able to make any sounds. I was floored, to be given such an opportunity!

And anyway, it’s not like I’ll be busy. I’m dead.

She seems to understand, and she hands me a small messenger bag.

“First, you have to send this note,” She hands me a small letter “To the Christian God-” I hide my excitement, at last, I would meet the God who so many worship.

I didn’t personally, but it was still quite cool! Death smiled at me, and she guided me towards a relatively small opening.

I peered in and saw an extremely large maze-like room with millions of doors along the walls, far below the opening.

“Good luck.” Death smirks, and she pushes me in. I scream before realizing I now had a set of tiny wings, and with a last glare at Death, I fly into the maze.

I searched the doors, starting my new job. I would call my family to let them know, but I was dead.

I am dead, and I am the new messenger for the afterlife.

Print Friendly, PDF & Email

Leave a Comment

If you want a picture to show with your comment, go get a gravatar.




Navigate Right
Navigate Left
  • Messenger

    Folio

    Days that Pass.

  • Messenger

    Folio

    Should’ve Listened

  • Messenger

    Folio

    65 Ways to Beat Writer’s Block

  • Messenger

    Folio

    Scared Of My Shadow

  • Messenger

    Folio

    Dead of Winter

  • Messenger

    Folio

    Jokes

  • Messenger

    Folio

    File 4: C for Cover

  • Messenger

    Folio

    Summer Nights

  • Messenger

    Folio

    Identidad (Identity)

  • Messenger

    Folio

    His Face…

The student news site of Freehold High School
Messenger