Afterlife Tales

During my time studying Theology, we came across the topic of the afterlife. Here are a few stories I wrote based on that topic

The Hooded Man in the Sky

I never lived a good life. But my life wasn’t bad either. My mother always told me, “Live it like God was watching you,” because he is. Over holiday break while I was in college, I went skiing with some of my bachelor friends. We were privileged, wealthy, good-looking young men. I took risks during life, and one of them was skiing without a helmet. Unfortunately, it wasn’t my lucky day. I hit a tree and died on the ride to the hospital.

I looked over my body in a spirit form, wishing I’d live my life better and listened to my mother. I was an okay person, I helped when I could, but I was known for neglecting my responsibilities when I had some. As I looked over my body, a voice spoke to me.

“Evan, Evan.” It said. “Come to me.”

“Who, what? Where are you?” I asked.

I was lifted above the clouds into a bright white light in the sky and presented before a council. Holy men and women sat in oversized golden chairs, observing me silently. A hooded man in a white robe sat in a chair across from me. I couldn’t see his face, but he seemed important; his presence felt powerful. He spoke in a deep, powerful voice, “Evan.” he said. “Your life was interesting. Do you know how this works?”

“No. Uh-”

“Please, Evan, just say yes or no.” The man raised his hand and said. “I’ve declared your job as a reaper.” He pulled a mallet out of his sleeve and slammed it on the table in front of him. “You shall feel the pain of every death you collect until time has come to be judged.”

I fell out of my chair back to earth, still in my spirit form. The world was grey, with no color. It looked dull and depressing. However, far away, I could see a red dot. Since it was the only thing of color, I followed it.

There I found an old man lying in his bed coughing and curled in a ball. I touched him, and he felt cold. The red light in him was dying out and turning black. I waited in his home to see what would happen. I sat there for what seemed like ages. I didn’t even notice that my clothes had changed. I was in black robes with a hood on it, almost like the hooded man in the sky. When his light went out, his spirit appeared before me. And a fiery portal appeared behind me. Pretending I knew what to do, I said, “Right this way, sir.” He stepped in, and I followed as I brought him to a ledge, and he fell off, landing in a small hole with his feet hanging out. Then I stepped back in the portal back to where I was. I felt his death of a heart attack in me. I gasped for air, and then It went away. The same voice came. “Evan, your job is to collect the dead and take them to hell. This is your purgatory.”

I looked around as I was back in the dull grey world and spotted another red light. I kept going and followed it to another poor soul about to die. I saw and felt his pain. I should have lived my life as if God were watching.

Prisoners of Earth

September 18th, 2003, 10:23 pm

After I died, I realized that the tattoo I got when I was in college wasn’t worth it. Some of the paramedics giggled when they saw it as they put my body in the ambulance. I was there as a spirit; no one could see me or hear me. I was driving to my new apartment in California in my brand new truck. I’d gotten my degree in business from NYU and moved to LA to build a startup company. I had a cousin in Texas, and I was stopping by for a visit. That ended quickly. As the stoplight turned, green a small red sports car flew across the road running the red light. They hit me. I slid in front of a semi-truck, and he hit me. I died upon impact. The girl in the small red sports car died too. She stood next to me. She said, “I know what it’s like to be dead.” She stood over her body as the paramedics came to pick her up.

“When you were living?” I asked

“No, I’ve died before. But they just brought me back,” she said calmly.

It took me a few seconds to understand that I was dead and to understand that she had died before. I had to ask. “So, you’ve died before?”

“Yes,” she replied.

All of a sudden, I just got angry. If she’s died before, why would she make the stupid mistake of running the red light? I turned to ask her and shout at her for wasting her life, but she was on the ground crying. I didn’t know what to do. I sat next to her and began crying too. I was dead. After a moment to ourselves and the accident was cleaned up, I stood up. My spirit will forever be in blue jeans, a plaid button shirt, and old converses.