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The Doors of Death
It was a simple ride to the grocery store and what do I do? I get to the center of an intersection and follow all of the rules. Only the driver of the white semi doesn’t. He didn’t even see my car. Where is he? He is getting bailed out of jail by his rich, ugly girlfriend. Where am I? I’m taking a one way elevator up, to present myself at the gates of heaven. This is the one place I shouldn’t be. If they truly knew me and what I’ve done, I should have been sent to hell.
The elevator slows to a stop. I am almost blinded by the pure, white light being emitted by the woman ahead of me. I’m not surprised to see an angel. I have seen one before, on that awful night. They are beautiful beings of pure light and soul. I only wish I was as pure. I look down at my arms and realize my body is giving off a deep red essence, the color of blood. This angel looks at me with a troubled expression for a moment, and then she signals for me to follow her. My body without my minds consent obliges. I shuffle forward, screaming in my mind to stop walking. The winding path turns left, then right, then left again. Up ahead I see a man standing in front of pair of silver doors that sparkled of energy. My biggest mistake was looking him in the eye. His pupils were white and his surrounding iris was silver. I was beginning to enjoy looking at my toes. The man calls my name and waits for my response. I answer with a timid yes. I look up and I no longer see a man. I see a child, the child.
It was a year ago, the sound of cold autumn leaves crunching under my boots filled the graveyard. I was spiraling deep into depression. It was caused by an even worse case of depression, my girlfriend’s. She was being overwhelmed by work and college and she was giving up. She committed suicide on the night I planned to ask her to marry me. I loved her, I still do, I was going to join her. So there I was standing over her grave with a knife in my hand and squeezing the engagement ring in my other hand. I push the tip of the knife over my heart and take a deep breath in. There is a crunch of leaves behind me. I was surprised, I turned quickly still holding the knife and my arm jarred as the knife hit. I looked down and saw a young boy no older than nine. His eyes locked onto mine and the light of his eyes vanished.
It was that night that I saw an angel. She was crying over my girlfriend’s grave. It was then when I knew I couldn’t kill myself, I had to make up for the child’s death somehow. Now here I am one year later facing the boy at the doors of death. A tear rolls down my cheek. As I begin to sob. I told the boy that I was sorry, that I knew I should’ve done more to make up for your death, that every day I had to live with knowing that I killed a child, that… The boy’s voice stops me short he says I forgive you. My vision started to blur then everything seemed clearer. I looked down and saw my skin was giving off a white glow. I am no longer the same man I was. I stride forward knowing I am ready to enter. In front of the door is an open book on a table. In a box next to my name is an empty slot that said date of birth. Clutching the engagement ring in my pocket I write my date of death instead of date of birth. This is the day I forgave myself and began living. I closed the book, placed it on the table, and finally, decided to walk through the door.
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