The Inbetween

A car crash.

A drowning.

A snake bite.

I imagined my death a million times. That my passing would be a random unexpected loss. An accident. Or one of those odd scenarios where a lefty dies from using righty equipment.

Murder was the farthest thing from my mind. I was the mom in my group of friends. With unsolicited advice like remembering to check-in. To carry their pepper spray and take the Krav Maga class.

If anyone was going to be murdered, chances were it wouldn't be me.

Hours earlier, the man who sat across from me in a jean jacket and lopsided smile was far from innocent. Even so, the butterflies melted away quickly as we talked. I was no match for a set of deep brown eyes locking with mine. Desire permeated from his gaze. He had a desire to kill and I was his target.

How many seconds does it take to decide to murder? Did he know as soon as he saw me? Or did he decide while we talked of our passions over a strong drink?

No. It was before the drinks. That's when I left for the ladies' room to text back my girlfriends and tell them everything was going fine.

I returned to find two drinks had been ordered in my absence. When I told him it made me uncomfortable, he motioned for the waitress to take them. He took no issue parting with them. I decided it would be okay. I really liked him. We tapped glasses in honor of our "second date". When my vision blurred, I blamed my intolerance for alcohol and apologized. I f****** apologized to my murderer.

That's when I found The Inbetween. The place where you're dying but not quite dead yet. Kind of similar to that phase right before sleep where you're too present to be asleep and too gone to be awake. I was gone from the world, and aware that I left, but everything was different in The Inbetween.

I sat cross-legged in a white-walled room. Unsure of how much time had surpassed as I came to. For the first time, I felt nothing. Neither sadness nor shock. It was as if I was cut off from the emotion I'd so heavily leaned on in the real world. Then a calm spirit spread through my limbs. It could be my brain's attempt to protect me.

I willed myself back to the living world. I pictured my family, one by one. My mother and father. My apartment, my dog who needed me, the life I created. The hardships I'd faced. I even dreamt of the years and experiences ahead. The words "want to go back" and "not ready to say goodbye" intruded as I reached for every tie I had to the physical world. When I opened my eyes, I was here. In-between life and death. Neither was mine, neither could be borrowed.

A floating feather landed by my heel. A quick scan of the room produced little to explain its presence. This room was a blank page, not a speck of dust was in the air. My legs wobbled as I faced the wall nearest to me. Vibrations shook the floor below like an earthquake. I clasped my mouth in shock. Then sounds of splintering debris came as massive pieces of the wall began to shape-shift. Chunks of drywall danced around as if trying to puzzle their way back.

The initial haziness I'd first experienced was gone. I was panicking. How long had I been here? Hours could've easily been days in the room and I'd never know. Once my stomach settled, I tested the limits like a defiant child. I ran right to the wall, half expecting to ram my head into it. The wall curved outward before it bounced back with a force so strong it knocked me across the room. I brushed my pants off.

Defeated, I relaxed all the way into corpse pose. Not before giggling at the irony of "corpse pose." Back to the floor, palms towards the ceiling.

I am not a corpse. I am not dead. Not yet.

The feather was the size of my middle finger. Across it was two fingers wide. The color was white with a brown spotty pattern on the side. I called out into the void. Inviting any presence to join me.

This place will leave me with more questions than answers.

Without warning, a white barn owl appeared mid-flight. I shrieked and threw myself backward. The owl perched onto a rod sticking out of the door. Was that there before? I'm losing my mind. The owl stared at me with its wide, knowing eyes. It looked at me and then at the door like, "aren't you going to open it?"

I'm hallucinating. No way is this real.

Something about the owl's stare made my knees weak. It was as if they were two old friends reuniting, not owl and not human. I grabbed the doorknob. My fingers clutched gingerly, half expecting the room to break or another blow to the head. It twisted! Waves upon waves of water dumped in and carried me away like a grain of sand.

The water never slowed its pace and I thrashed until my body failed to muster the strength to fight. With only feet left of breathable space, I accepted my fate. Death was imminent.

The currents of water slowed, then retreated out the way it came. I couldn't watch, the life force within me was exhausted. My bottom finally thumped the ground. The owl was gone and at this point, I wasn't sure I had seen it at all. Losing the water made the lack of noise so much worse. The door! I turned to see that the door was gone, too.

I summoned my remaining energy into my voice. "I don't accept this. I'd rather there be nothing than this. Let me move on. I'm ready. Do you hear me? I'm ready to go now. Take me, damn you!"

The low rumble of the walls came, the pieces shifted into a new position. Lilac purple filled the walls. The ceiling held glow in the dark stars. Once the movement settled, I tensed. I didn't need to see anything else to know I was standing in my childhood bedroom.

A plush throw blanket was sprawled onto the bed. As I reached for it, my hands fell into empty space. Each item was only air under my grasp. Every detail down to the last sticker stuck to the bed frame was as it had been.

A girl with braided hair and a sad look stepped in. I stared at myself as a ten-year-old. The young version of me was inconsolable for a reason I couldn't recall.

Even though The Inbetween wouldn't allow physical touch beyond the realm, I instinctively tried to comfort her.

"Everything is okay. You're okay. Although, it would serve you best never to think of boys at all. you'll thank me later."

The girl looked directly into my eyes. "Hey! Hey! Can you see me? Raise two fingers if you can see me." The girl turned off her lamp and laid her weary head on her pillow.

"No one will hurt you, at least not now."

For a while, I watched her chest move. My hand drifted to my own. No heartbeat. No blood pulsing.

So how am I sentient?

I called into the void, almost at a whisper, though I knew the girl wouldn't wake.

A fluff of white and feathers came back.

"Want to show me how you do that?" I asked.

The bird shuffled its feet and then moved towards the bedroom door.

"No. I know that trick already, bird. You won't get me this time."

Regardless the bird waited. It tucked in its neck and its large eyes closed.

I scoffed. "Okay. Fine. I'll follow you. But if it's another trick, I'll have you for dinner. I feel like I haven't eaten in a year." The bird seemed to understand as it flapped its wings in agitation.

The door swung open. This room wasn't the hallway in our home. It was a hospital bed. The bright lights, the machines, the incessant beeping noises. I looked in horror at what I presumed was my current self... and nearly dead. Is this the battle I'm to crawl out of?

Guilt. Pity. Regret. Loss.

Emotions were shrouding what was left of my mental state. What once felt like blazing fire within, weakened to a lit candlewick.

The owl observed my body as it was hooked up to machines, with serenity. It glowed, even under the harsh lights. Maybe animals were angels, at least here, wherever here is.

"Are you waiting to escort me to whatever's next?" I asked. The owl's head turned to meet my gaze, ever so graciously. Only to turn back to the other me.

A tall, clean-cut man in scrubs walked in. Followed by a couple who clung to each other as if their own life hung in the balance. That was my parents. They had been divorced and despised each other. It seemed they've reunited under the dire circumstance. I wished I could tell them I'm sorry.

I hope they were proud of me.

"I can't watch this, bird. Have some mercy."

The owl shifted feet as if to ponder what to do next.

"Stop showing me these things. I don't want to see any more of it. None of it is fair and I don't deserve to go on suffering like this."

The owl perched itself on a dusty bookshelf sat in the hospital room. It nearly knocked one off the top. It snatched up a pencil in its beak.

"More games? Is this hell? And you the most enchanting devil?" I laughed. I leaned in to get a closer look at the fool owl.

N O T Y O U R T I M E

The words were neatly carved through the dust.

"Woah. Now we can actually agree. So what are we going to do about it?"

The harsh lights above flickered. The owl was gone. "If it's not my time send me back! I don't want to see another feather unless it's aiding in my return. Do you hear that?! Not one feather!"

For a time, I sat with my old self. The absurdity of the situation I found myself in was amusing. When they said hearing goes last, they forgot about the sense of humor.

"This isn't what I meant when I said I needed more alone time."

The hyena-cackling noises I made turned into tears. The life I'd meant to live was nowhere near done. I was murdered. My hopes and dreams were just a hole in my loved ones' lives. For that, I regretted it the most.

"The first problem was accepting a drink that you couldn't keep your eyes on."

Victim blaming. How sad that instead of shaming a murderer I instead punish myself for not outsmarting him? For being caught in the moment?

I refuse to take the blame for a monster.

The dress I had chosen for my date was carefully considered. Not too fancy to show desperation, and not too shaggy to show disregard. A middle ground, black satin number with comfortable yet stylish shoes. Small butterfly charms hung from my wrist bracelets and matched the set of earrings I had on. I didn't look dead, I looked like I'd fallen asleep. Other than my lips being slightly purple.

I'd met my murderer through a friend. After a few failed attempts at online dating, I decided to try something new. My previous boyfriend gave me a new lease on life. He showed me what I wanted in a man by being the opposite.

My murderer's name was Pete.

Pete may as well have handed me the rose-colored glasses himself. I'd have jumped at the chance to wear them. I was enthralled within minutes. The dozens of red flags he presented looked like encouraging green if you squinted your eyes enough. Like a fly drawn to the light, you won't realize your mistake before it's too late.

I romanticized his pauses in conversation. I told myself he was purposely holding back. He knew it made me crave more.

His aversion to my touch was shyness

His gaze was awe instead of an obsession

His every word was a sweet intention instead of a calculation

I was wrong. Red flags are just red flags.

Red. Drops of red fell into my lap. I craned my neck to see the source. The ceiling was bleeding.

Doctors burst into the room and began yelling orders at more scrub-garbed folk. The machine to my body's left was going haywire. My BP was dropping too fast. This was it. I was in a war with death and losing rapidly.

What the hell am I going to do?

My parents were ushered into the waiting room as the doctors frantically tried to get me stable again. In The In-between I could no longer sense what my body was going through. I'd give anything to feel the lightest prick of pain, because then maybe I'd be alive. It was worth hoping for. The blood droplets formed a perfect circle around me. I dare not move a finger. My BP was dangerously low. My body was shutting down, it wouldn't be long before this was all over.

I closed my eyes. If I couldn't go out like a champion, kicking and screaming, I'd go like a monk in meditation. I detached from the hospital room and imagined heaven, on my own terms.

It was a cascading waterfall, filling every nook and cranny with crystal clear water. The soft hum as it fell. The breeze nudging me in. I'm floating down the river. The wispy clouds above invited me, the delicate rays of the sun warmed my skin. I detached until I no longer had a body or memories, all sensation ceased but oneness. Death was but a birth, back to the oneness.

I became as light as the owl's feather, floating to the winds will, wherever she sways. The more I accepted my destiny, the more the oneness flowed, lifting me higher and higher.

Life, The Inbetween, Light. The ever-turning cycle.

We will return to the light with gratitude, as we are born into it. It is all but destiny. The universe will wrap you in its arms over and over again. Until time itself ends. Because it was since the beginning, and always will be.

I awoke to the sound of my parent's shrieks of relief. My body hurt worse than it ever had. Yet the pain was welcomed. It meant I was alive.