The Final

By Caroline Justice

 

Prologue

            There seems to be an age-old question. What happens after you die? This has been a major debate between religions for thousands of years. I was sitting with some of my friends when this question arose. I thought it would be funny to give a brief but fictional explanation. This book is the explanation I gave, but I won’t give it away. Go ahead and read what happens after you die. Because this is The Final, shouldn’t you be studying?

LIFE #1

****

   

My body doubles over in pain as the attack grips my spine and sends me back into those painful memories depicting my illness that I've tried so hard to repress.

No one knows what causes my attacks; there is no cure. Everyone is hoping that I will miraculously recover. I don't think that's ever going to happen. One thing they are sure of though, I'm going to die and deep down I know they're right. The only question is when. I can feel that it is going to be soon. It's getting harder to breathe and everyday that I live the attacks get stronger and more frequent. It's almost as if God is enraged by my continued existence and is attempting to tear me from the physical world.

I watch my family's faces and I see the pain that I am inflicting upon them. I wish that I would die. If I did then they wouldn't have to feel this way anymore. Burdened by my illness, my weaknesses, my problems; they would be better off without my poisonous influence. Maybe once I'm gone they can get back to their lives. Just because my life has to end doesn't mean theirs should too.

Honestly, I think I've lived a good life. Sure I'm only eighteen but age really is only a number. It isn't what you've done; it's how many people your life has touched. I really hope that God or Gandhi or whoever is waiting on the other side doesn't count the pain that my illness has caused my family; I believe that the afterlife is merely how we perceive it, that's how the Greeks saw it anyway. Humans are so set in their ways that they see and hear what their brains have the capacity to understand. Therefore, I have covered all my bases so I don't end up on the losing team. Is that cheating? I really don't know. Does it really matter? I'll let you be the judge of that. I'm not telling you to take my beliefs either, like I said humans are stubborn, if you want to believe in heaven and hell then by all means continue your designated path I'm not here to question your faith and test you religious security. I'm just here to tell you what I know and how. I'm just telling you how I see things.

My mom, she is the most caring person in the world. I know, a lot of people say that about their mother's. But I'm serious, she cares about everything and everyone, most of all me. She still thinks that one of these days I'm going to get up out of this bed, completely cured, and skip off into the sunset. I try to tell her that I have made my peace with dying but she continues to pray for me. Just like every other day, she's sleeping in the chair next to my hospital bed ready to jump up and call the nurse at a moments notice. She starts to stir.

"Kevin, what are you doing up? You should be resting." She says with a yawn.

"Mom, I'm okay," I cough. "I don't want to spend the last days of my life sleeping in a hospital."

"Don't say that! When you talk like that -. It's just -. If you keep talking like that then you'll never get better." She cried.

She got up and left, my best friend Kyle coming in behind her. Kyle has an elfish grin that I have grown to become wary of. He is almost always up to something whether it's searching for money or setting off the fire alarm at school, the grin is always the first indicator.

"Cash, what'd you do to your mom this time?"

My name is Kevin Blackburn; my friends call me Cash. It started in middle school when Kyle didn't have any money for lunch. I bought it for him and I have been buying him whatever he needed ever since. In exchange I get the best friend I could ever ask for. It also helps that I basically have a never ending cash flow because he never has any money. Why did I need the money? I was going to die and it isn't as if I can take it all with me. I've did a lot of research when it came to me choosing my religion. There were many things that I adopted but others that I thought were utterly absurd. For example, the Egyptians believed the afterlife was a lot like how our world is today, meaning the one with the thickest wallet made the rules. Therefore, they stuffed their tombs with gold and even servants to provide assistance in the afterlife. That is ridiculous. The Christians, however; adopted the view that once you died you were done with all earthly possessions. Stating that it is easier to walk a camel through the eye of a needle than it was for a rich man to walk through the gates of heaven.

I shook the thoughts of our first meeting and my unusual religious beliefs from my head and replied with a shrug, "The usual. I'm accepting of my death and she's still in denial."

Kyle frowns a little and says, "Dude you can still beat this."

Now it was my turn to frown. I met Kyle when I was twelve; I am now eighteen. For half of the time that I have known him I have been in and out of hospitals. It is obvious that I will not be "beating" this. Honestly, it's a miracle I didn't die when I was fifteen.

"I guess they were wrong."

"Who?"

"The people who say that 'Ignorance is bliss.'"

"It's not ignorance, it's hope. How do you expect to get better if you don't believe it's possible?"

I look around the hospital room and sigh. I have come to know this room better than the one at my house. I've spent so much time here they reserved the room so that I would have somewhere to go when another attack hit.

"I don't expect to get better," I said. "I know I won't. I refuse to be jaded by false hope when I can feel myself slipping from existence with every attack I have."

Kyle's face always shows his emotions as if there is a neon sign above his head. I can tell that he knows I'm right but refuses to believe it. He doesn't want to lose me and I feel the same way. Not many people get to have a friend as great as Kyle; I feel as if I take advantage of his optimism, I'm going to miss him when I die. It's people like him and my mom that make me hope that reincarnation exists. If I could live again, start over; I would do things differently; I'd be a better friend, not argue as much with my dad, clean my room, do what my mom told me (the first time), maybe even try to get Jennifer King to go on a date with me. I know it's too late to think of all the things I could've and should've done. You know what they say, "Coulda, shoulda, woulda; It's not what you say, it's what you do." It's a pretty childish expression but it gets the point across.

"Well I have to go; my mom is expecting me home before five."

"Tell her I said 'Hi.'"

You might think it's weird that I care about Kyle's mom he is like a brother to me and she has basically been like a second mom ever since me and Kyle started being friends. His mom is also pregnant she ready to pop any day now. I'm sad to say that I probably won't be alive long enough to see the baby. It's suppose to be a boy; I guess it is true that when one life ends another begins. I think I can live with knowing that my life/death helped bring about the birth of Kyle's younger brother. He's going to need something to take his mind off my death might as well be his new little brother.

"I will," he said starting for the door. He stopped and turned to say, "Oh, Cash?"

"Yeah, man?"

"Can I borrow a couple of bucks?"

A smile creeps up on my lips and touches my eyes for the first time in a while. It's nice to know that some things never change. People are born and die every day, but Kyle will never have money on him.

"Dude, you're going to have to get a job soon. I'm not going to be here forever." My tone is joking but I am completely serious. He needs to start thinking about what he's going to do with himself. I have thought about this a lot. Which is why I save all of my money to arrange a will to be put in place. I haven't told my parents about it. I figure it'll be a nice surprise; kind of like I'm still there looking over them.

Kyle punches me in the arm and says, "yeah you will. You'll probably out-live me. But seriously, it that a yes or a no, because I'm broke."

"In the top drawer of the side table," I say with a laugh. Kyle always knows how to make me smile.

Kyle saunters out of the room with the cash and I am finally left alone.

I know, it sounds selfish that I want to be alone when they're going out of their way to be with me right now. Believe me, I know, and I feel guilty. But I never asked them to be here and watch me die. I want them to remember me the way I was, not the withered version I am now.

When I'm alone I can't help but think about how I used to be. I was a happy kid, always smiling. I had a wide circle of friends with Kyle always by my side. This is not the story of how a popular jock's life has gone to hell, it isn't the story of the genius who's chances of getting into Harvard were ruined by a disease, and it is definitely not the story of the nerd who's picture got in the yearbook after he died from cancer and everyone acts as if they knew him so well and didn't torture him throughout the living hell on Earth which is high school. I was just a normal kid, nothing special. I had friends, made decent grades, never made ripples. I was a "good" kid.

Another attack rips though my body. The pain is searing but it hardly fazes me anymore. I can hear the heart monitor's beeping; loud and erratic. The nurses come rushing in with my mom close behind. The look on my mother's face is heart breaking; I can see her pain. She is so worried and I can't do anything to comfort her, all I can do is lie here having painful convulsions.

Why is everything getting dimmer? Or is it getting brighter? My whole world starts to go white; and then I hear the screams. They rip through my uncertainty and confirm my instinct. I was dying. The realization is echoed by the sound of my heart monitor going flat.

"Don't go into the light," they always say. Oops, I guess I did that wrong. They say not to go into the light but they really have no idea how hard that is. It's kind of like trying to defy gravity or escape the gravitational pull of a black hole. You can try but eventually you will be ripped apart by the bright singularity. It's like fighting the inevitable.

I'm hovering over my body for a moment watching my face. People lied; the dead don't look very peaceful. I looked like I had been through Hades (Hell if you prefer but the allusion won't apply), chewed up by Cerberus, and then vomited back onto my hospital bed it a disgusting heap. I looked awful but not as bad as my mom did. She had flung herself onto the bed when they told her that I was dead. She clung to my lifeless body, her tears making her mascara run and staining the skin on my body. Watching her felt like a red-hot knife was being slowly pulled out of my heart. I could feel myself leaving her, but I wasn't ready yet. I thought that I was ready to leave this world and die but now that it seemed like I was here I couldn't do it. I'd like to say that I saw everything and then succumbed to the light and left the physical world bravely but I'd be lying. I couldn't handle it; I cried.

Just then Kyle burst through the door in tears. He must've gotten a call from my dad. I have never seen Kyle cry. He was always happy and laughing but now I'm inflicting more pain on them now that I'm gone than I did when I was living.

I couldn't bear to watch the grieving scene that was unfolding in front of me. My mom was destroyed; I never wanted her to feel this way. I always wondered whether people would be sad if I died but now that I know I am ashamed of how I acted. I told them I wanted to die. I told them that I was going to die. I took away their hope and now I'm gone. I have never been so devastated to be right.

I'm done, I can't watch anymore. I finally let go and the world turns black, the only thing left within my vision is a depiction of my life. The good, and the bad, points of my life are in front of me and I miss it but I know I can't go back. I watch the scenes with tears rolling down my face. I want to apologize for things I did and to tell them that I love them and appreciated everything they did for me.

What I see before my eyes is surprising. I don't quite understand what is going on. It's obvious that I died, I'm not stupid. I just experienced it. I always thought that, despite my religious life style, I would go to heaven's gates and then he would tell me to get lost. That was my worst case-scenario. I was told by my mom that everyone that I had ever lost would be waiting at the gates for me and I can't deny that I kind of hoped she was right. But this was nothing like that. This was . . . I don't know if I would say worse but it was definitely not better. Heaven was my living hell (Is that accurate since I'm dead?). I'm sure you can imagine your living hell. You've experience it for a good portion of your life, probably about thirteen years if my calculation are correct. Can you guess? Sorry but I'm not going to wait for your answer. If you did guess you might be right, because it looked like a classroom. There was a single desk sitting in the middle of the room and the usual directions were printed on the board. You know the ones I'm talking about: No talking, no cheating, start and stop times. It was basically like the ACT all over again. I walked slowly over to the desk and sitting in the seat was a little girl.

"How'd you get here?" I asked.

The girl raised her head and said, "They couldn't find out. I just kept having attacks and then I died."

My heart started to race, there were others like me? I didn't get to ask her any more questions because the machine on the desk made a noise and spit out a scantron exactly like the ones I use to use in school. The girl walked slowly over to the desk and picked up her scantron. She took a slow breath and looked at the score.

"What? No! But I'm a great test taker! How could this happen? No….." Her eyes grew wide and she started to fade. She became like mist and then the cloud shimmered and disappeared.

"Well I'm going to guess that she didn't pass." I said to myself as I took the seat behind the desk.

As I sat down a new test appeared on my desk. It had a test packet and a fresh scantron. The test packet had a seal on the side like Advanced Placement tests. I looked around, I even checked under the desk. Really, no pencil?

New directions began to print themselves on the board. They said:

This test is to completed orally. Answers will then be

transferred to your scantron based on your answers.

When your test is complete you are to insert it into the

scantron scanner and take your seat.

"Thanks, I guess."

I opened the test booklet and began reading the first question. The questions seemed familiar in some way. As if I had heard them before but had never paid any attention to what was going on. The questions said:

(Before taking this test; do you wish to remember your experience for future reference?)

1. What religion are you?(Is there a way to answer this without getting thrown into Hell?)

2. How many times a day do you watch TV, or participate in other entertaining activities?

3. Please list the curse words you use on a daily basis.(Not sure if I feel comfortable cussing in heaven.)

4. Do you go to church?

5. Have you ever argued with your parents or disrespected them?

6. Have you ever killed someone?

7. Do you hate anyone?

8. Have you ever participated in coitus?

9. Have you ever stolen anything?

10. Have you ever lied or started a rumor?

11. Have you ever been jealous?

Realization dawned on me. The questions were the commandments! I guess that makes sense, but it doesn't leave any imagination as to which religion this is. I was hoping that it would end up being Buddhism or Hindu just so I could be reincarnated. How would that work anyway; would I be reincarnated as a baby, an already grown person, or would I be a bug or something? I heard that what you are reincarnated as is based on how shitty your life was. I don't want to say that my life sucked but speaking as a person who spent half their life in a hospital bed I feel like I deserve at least to be born into a respectable family and live to be old this time. I mean I basically didn't even get to experience my prime.

The test then changed its questions for the next set. It was basically questions that you would fill out when creating an account on Facebook. Suck as; what's you favorite genre of music? I answered the questions quickly even though I still don't understand how my GPA and music preferences are going to help them determine whether or not I deserve to go to heaven.

The test booklet then remained blank and I assumed that meant that the test was over. I got up out of the chair and walked over to the scanton machine and with a shaky hand I inserted my test. New directions then appeared on the board:

Once you insert your scantron take your seat and wait for your test results.

You are to remain seated until the scantron machine alerts you that your

results are complete. No talking! Remain in your seat! Any insubordination

will result in your immediate removal from the the testing area.

Maybe that's what the girl did wrong. As soon as I walked into the room I started talking to her. A cloud of guilt then loomed over my head; it was my fault that she didn't get into heaven (or the afterlife. Whatever the hell this place is!). I started wringing my hands in anticipation and tried to resist the urge to start pacing. At that moment another kid appeared in the room and I could feel the need to talk to him. I needed to warn him not to talk to me. I will admit I tried my best; I started pointing to the board where is said, "No talking." But he wasn't going for it.

He opened his mouth to speak and I resisted the urge to yell at him. Just then the scantron machine buzzed and I ran to it. I snatched the paper out of the machine and took a deep breath. Slowly, I turned over the answer sheet. I stared in disbelief. I couldn't believe me eyes; all of my answers had been replaced by a single word printed in elegant writing across the paper. I still couldn't believe it; my eyes started to water from the lack of blinking. I just stared. Across the paper the single word read:

NO.

My mouth fell agape and I looked into the eyes of the kid in front of me and I just said one thing to him; "Don't talk!"

 

****

 

 

2: Life 2

Life #2

"Come on Kyle; man up!" I said to myself in the hopes that maybe this little pep talk would help me get off my sorry ass and go help my mom out. She's probably going to have her baby today. She's already two days past due but that's what stress can do to you, and we all know there is a lot to be stressing about. Between Cash's suicidal attitude and his impending death I haven't gotten any sleep just thinking about what the doctors could do to make him better. I kept coming up blank. The doctors told us that there was nothing they could do; especially since they couldn't even find out what was causing him to have the attacks.

My phone rang.

"Hello?" It was Cash's dad.

"It's time." Cash's dad said and then the phone went dead. I didn't have to call him back to know what he was talking about. Cash was having another attack and this one was probably going to be his last.

I grabbed my coat and ran toward my car. I drove to the hospital in a haze not quite realizing where I was going but I was there in no time at all. I didn't need to ask what room Cash was in, I had been in this hospital for so long I had the number memorized.

Before I even got to the room I could here the heart monitor, loud and erratic. This wasn't good. His heart can't take something like that. If he doesn't snap out of the attack he'll . . . . My thought was cut short by the sound of his heart monitor going flat. He was dead. I ran as fast as I could to his room and was greeted by a scene of grief. His mom was a wreck, she had flung herself onto Cash's dead body and was crying so loud Cash would've heard it even in his eternal sleep.

I sank to my knees and let the tears fall. I had lost a brother. Then my phone began to ring again 

"Hello?" I said not attempting to hide the grief in my voice.

There was a pause on the other line and then my mom's voice came full of pain and exhaustion.

"Honey, I'm sorry about Cash. But I'm going into labor."  I dropped the phone. How is it that after something so awful my little bother would be born today. It was a cruel joke.

****

I stared down at my hands. I had chewed the nails down to nubs, so short they had started to bleed. I was so nervous; they wouldn't let me in the room while she was giving birth; which was okay with me, I wasn't ready to see someone give birth but I felt obligated to be in the room with her. My dad had left a little while after I was born and my new baby brother's didn't even stick around long enough to hear the results of the pregnancy test. Neither of our dads were parent material. My pacing was interrupted by the presence of someone in the room with me. I looked around but found no one there.

"That's odd." I said perplexed and looked around again.

My shoulder felt cold but strangely reassuring at the same time; it sent a shiver down my spine. It felt almost as if someone touched my shoulder after holding it in ice water. The feeling was gone as quickly as it came. As soon as the sensation disappeared I heard a baby's cry. Was that my brother? I turned toward the door and waited expectantly for the doctor.

It felt as if countless hours had passed and the doctor still hadn't arrived. I watched the clock but the minute hand wouldn't move; maybe it was broken? No, that didn't make any sense; the second hand was moving correctly.

The doctor appeared in the doorway.

"How's she doing?" I asked urgently.

The doctor looked down at his clipboard as if he was trying to find an easy way to tell me difficult news. He flipped a few pages and then looked at me with a thin smile.

"She's going to be fine. All of her vitals look fine. The pregnancy went smoothly; no complications. She will have to stay in the hospital for a couple of days, but that is standard. I do advise that she takes it easy for at least a week; no working, minimal labor, that sort of thing."

"Did you tell her that?" I said with my eyebrow raised and slight amusement in my voice.

No one can really tell by looking at my mother but she is extremely stubborn and self-sacrificing. She looks fragile but she's not. She worked up until the last few days of her due date and never complained once. She refused to let me get a job to help with bills when her boyfriend left, and when I got a job anyways she refused to take the money. No matter what you tell her she does the opposite; she has a dangerous rebellious streak that she only acknowledges when shit hits the fan and she realizes that she needs help, but does she ask for help? No, she tries to do it all on her own until someone force feeds her love, compassion, and assistance. I'm only to proud to be the person to offer it.

****

I was standing in the dark. There were no walls; I know, I checked. I couldn't see anything except for a small white light from far away. It was nothing like the light I was pulled toward when I died though. I felt no dread, almost as if the worst part had already ended, and there really was no heavy gravitational pull. I could feel a slight tugging sensation, but I felt no urgency to move, even though I knew that eventually I was going to have to. My future was that white light and I needed to embrace it no matter what lie on the other side. Maybe I would get to see that girl again; find out what really happened to her when she died.

The new goal gave me motivation to begin walking. The light started changing. I finally reached the light; well really you couldn't call it a light anymore because it was a bright door, and next to it was a man with a spotlight on him.

"Mr. Kevin "Cash" Blackburn?" The man asked with his eyebrow raised.

"Yes, sir. That's me." I said with a little anxiety creeping into my heart.

"Not anymore. My boss reviewed your test scores and has decided that you deserve a second try. Apparently he sees some potential hidden deep within you. Although I don't pretend to understand his motives; I do know he has a plan for you. But before you are allowed to continue you must first agree to his terms and conditions."

My heart did a flip inside my chest. I was getting a second chance? "You mean reincarnation really exists? The Buddhists were right?"

"I wouldn't put it that way. No seriously, don't put it that way. I really annoys him thinking about every person he gives a second chance to who just ends up writing a book about it and claiming it as their new religion. Think of it more as a remedial class."

"Got it. So what are the conditions?"

"Number one: You are NOT allowed to talk about what you have experienced here. It seems self explanatory but it is always the first rule to be broken. Number two: You no longer use your name. You use whatever name they give you when you walk through that door. Number three: Unless you are born back into your family you are NOT allowed to find them, and if you are born into your family once again you are not allowed to tell them it is you. Number three: Live life to its fullest. I understand that your life was taken from you early but that's just because it is all part a much bigger game of chess. We are in it for the long run. Number four: No exchanges and no refunds. You failed your test and their is no way for you to take it again until you die of natural causes, unforeseen circumstances; such as murder, or by a natural disaster. If you are born into an undesirable family you are meant to be there to do something worth while. We don't have a customer service number for a reason. By the way, if you commit suicide it is a one-way ticket to your worst nightmare. I do believe that is everything. Do you understand these guidelines?"

"Yes, sir." I said with curt nod.

"Then I do believe you are ready to go. Please exit through that door and have a nice life." His spotlight then faded and he was gone.

I turned toward the door and turned to knob. I opened it slowly and everything went fuzzy. I was in someones arms and the smell of blood greeted my nose as well as the sound of crying. I looked for the person crying but I couldn't quite make out her face yet. The crying grew closer as I was put into her arms. I looked at her and stared into her eyes; this woman was to be my new mom?

****