When I Died/The Start of Something Good

When I Died … The truck is coming. I never thought I could see a truck so closely. I knew it was coming and I knew it was the end. But there was nothing I could do. That’s it. That’s how I died. Yeah, I’ve seen— Wait, I should say “I’d seen!” Guess it’ll take time for me to figure it out, what happened and what will happen now. Anyway, I’d seen it a lot in movies before, you know. The guy who got killed in a car crash by the doing of a truck. Maybe the driver was drunk. Maybe he was on the phone, talking to some … person. Maybe he was searching for some can of Cola that fell off while sipping it. Ah, what do I care? I’m DEAD! Do you hear me? DEAD! But … I don’t feel dead, not really. Is that how it feels? I mean, I’m still wearing the same beige blazer and blue jeans. I can still smell my perfume, the one I got as a present in … I can’t even remember! It was probably one of my sister’s desperate trials to make me love life. Yes, here it is! I said it out loud! I HATED my life, every bit of it. Anyhow, back to how I feel NOW: I don’t feel any lighter. I don’t feel like I’m floating or flying away, which is weird because … I’m only a soul right now. Wait. Could I be dreaming? Well, I’ve seen that in movies before, and … Who am I gonna lie to? I don’t even read! Movies are easier, dude! High-five! Who on earth am I even high-fiving?! Should I start saying ‘in heaven?’ Why would someone like me go to heaven in the first place? What did I ever do to make me deserve heaven? I deserve hell—no one can deny that—but … if only I could take a quick look at heaven, just from outside, just a really quick peek, and … OH MY GOD!! WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!!!!! I’m not really sure why I’m writing this. Or how. I don’t think I ever heard of a dead person write a diary before! Could I possibly be … a ZOMBIE?! But … I don’t feel hungry, not for a human brain anyway. Eww!! Ugh!! That’s just bad!! Yeah, sorry, back to what I was writing! I was standing in that … place when a white-dressed angel appeared in front of me. Not that I have a close enough relationship to angels that I can actually recognize them, you know, but he looked like one, or (which I find quite weird, by the way) felt like one. At first I was scared and I stepped back to hit something with my foot, but then I was no longer scared. No longer anticipating. No longer worried. I no longer felt those stuff. But some feelings never—ever—left, like … what happened to that little girl—or was it a boy? I don’t even remember. Must have been the adrenaline. Yeah, that’s gotta be it. One kind of fear kept lingering no matter how hard I tried to kick it out: not knowing. Not about not knowing where I was going—I was going to hell and I was never so sure of anything in my life. More like … not knowing whether it worked. Yeah, I’ll tell you the story of that little girl, boy, WHATEVER! I’ll tell you about the angel first, though. I hadn’t quite paid attention to where I was before stumbling into that shiny being—I’d been way too busy trying to figure out if I was dead or dreaming. When he appeared, though, it felt like … it felt like it was the end. Before I saw him, I still had some hope that I might be dreaming. Yeah, well, you know, it’s really hard for someone to want to die, even someone like me. Not that I don’t wanna go to hell, coz I just never worked, and never would have worked, my way to heaven. That just doesn’t pay. I have some ... stuff that I know about God for sure. Yeah, the general stuff, just like we all know them under different names. Justice is one of those stuff. I believe in that justice more than his so-called mercy. What kind of god would just throw his creation in a world like that? Humans killing humans, or, even worse, torturing them to death, verbally, physically, abandoning them. Well, just too much pain over there, too much injustice. But I still clang to that belief in justice in that mystery god that I ‘worshipped’—and I’m laughing as I write it, just so you may know. Well, you know what? I’m glad I’m going to hell! At least those stuff will make more sense there! Yes, those pains, this … evil, yeah, that’s where they belong: hell. Not earth, hell no, not earth! Anyway, talkative me! When I blinked, I found that I was at the same place, at the same scene, but it just didn’t seem to move. And yet it was moving as fast as ever. Weird, huh! Tell me about it! Well, I’ve seen stranger stuff since then, so don’t be taken back yet! That anonymous—nice word, classy—thing that I hit with my foot was a tree bark. What the hell was I doing near a tree? I was standing in front of that HUGE truck! How did I ever come near a tree? Yeah, well, the worse is yet to come! I shouted at the angel, I screamed with all my might! It was a freaking angel!! I was DEAD!!! Wow, it feels worse every time I say it! I asked the usual stupid stuff that I already knew the answer of, or to—never was a fan of grammar! Stupid school! Yeah, anyway, I asked the same old stupid stuff: who are you? What do you want from me? Where are you gonna take me? What’s gonna happen now? You know, the usual stuff that dead people usually asked in movies. I obviously have no originality, silly me! Yeah, well I’m sorry, sophisticated guy reading this! Pardon—it’s French, silly you!! Just as it comes by—and then I’ll go back to respecting you as the reader of this nonsense—you are a … really silly person! What? No? You don’t think you’re silly? Well, you know what? Try to see it from here, from this very place, and then you’ll know that you’re so silly you could just vomit watching yourself ‘live,’ dead dude! Welcome, bro, or sis! Yeah, whatever! Sorry, reader—I burst your bubble, that cute little bubble you surround yourself with all the time, telling yourself that this world is so cute and cozy and that everything’s gonna be fine. Do you think you’re GOD? Well, hell yeah, you do! You think that this whole world is about you, but that’s where I go right back to saying, “SILLY YOU!!!!!!”, silly dude, or dudette, like that matters anymore! Now, sorry, for real this time. Yeah, I got carried away. But that’s what DYING DOES!!! GOD, I’m DEAD!!! WHAT COULD BE WORSE?!!!!! Hey, professor, professor, I know, I know. Here’s my hand, it’s raised! I know the answer! Well, here it is, professor: being alive! Oh yeah! You, alive people who are reading this: you are DEAD!! Much more dead than I am, gotta say! Coz you think you’re alive, but what does alive mean? Isn’t it the … antonym of ‘dead?’ And what does dead mean? It means you can’t move. It means you can’t breathe. You can’t laugh, you can’t smile. You can’t live, GOD DAMMIT!! Well, I can SURELY say that you’re not alive—I don’t mean you, you know yourself! I mean the other hypocrites who think they’re some supernatural beings who can live among this filth that fills the world! Yeah, weird to hear from someone who’s going to hell, huh!! Back to our story, if you’re still reading this, which would be weird, weird dude, but I like ya! I like that about ya—that’ll sound more like “aboucha!” Yeah, anyway, where was I? Ah, yeah, the zombie part! I’m not a zombie, not even close. I’m just a man from earth who is now gonna go to hell! And that angel is here to take me! But ... if so, then why is the devil not here instead? Oh my God, am I that much of a nothing that the DEVIL would not come and give me a lift to hell?! Oh, come on!! Gotta be of some importance, dude!!! You know what, I’m starting to believe angels are dumb—as in they can’t speak or hear—coz I’ve asked ... ah, wait, that’s the continuation of the story!! I asked the angel for one last request before he escorted me to the gates of hell: I just needed a piece of paper and a pen so I could write what I saw after that truck. I asked him for one moment and he’s been sitting silently beside me here for hours!! Wow! Angel indeed, hah!! That’s what I meant when I said he was dumb, by the way, in case you’re still waiting! Anyway, here’s what I asked for the paper to write, anyhow! All that passed was a trial to make you understand my situation, that’s all. My name is Klemens, by the way. I thought it was a good way to start over since I was so harsh and unkind the past few pages. This used to be a story about how I died, then why I died, but then it just turned out to be a story about what my name means! The irony!! That part of life on earth followed me here!! No way out of some things, don’t you think?!! Well, here’s what happened, all from the start. I was on my way back home. I live in a city that I choose to call ‘towny!’ It’s so unsophisticated I find it a waste to call it a city! Well, it was called Vita. Weird name. Yeah, I know. Well, I hated it too, along with everything about it! Vita was where I was born. It was where I’d lived my whole life. And it was what I wished to leave behind for good after everything had ended: Anima, the love of my life, had died, and I died with her long before that truck hit me. Well, you know what? She did not really die. I was just stupid enough to let her go. I know she loved me. I know she wanted me the whole time. And she tried to come back to me every single minute of every single day, I know, but I was too stupid to take her hand even once. Until she died. Not physically. She just gave up on me. She promised she would never fall in love after me nor get married, ever, and it was true. People told me things about her whenever I saw them—they were trying to get us back together—but I just didn’t want to. Loving her meant that I had to give up on so many things. And I just wasn’t ready. It meant family, it meant home, it meant rules, it meant responsibility! I was never gonna commit, so why even bother? My whole life, I’ve been honest with myself. I’m not telling you those details now that I’m dead, like I somehow see things differently now! I’ve always seen things, ALWAYS! I was just too passive to lift a finger and try to change things. Not hopeless. Not desperate. But I knew that too. And I was never gonna change. Not because I couldn’t: because I wouldn’t. I didn’t want to change, so I didn’t, and all my friends’ trials were condemned to failure, so I never got back to Anima, my childhood friend, the only one I ever loved. But why so serious?! (That’s what the Joker used to say, right? Well, I’m not that much of a psychopath, or a genius—can’t quite tell—but I just wanted to make it clear that I am neither a psychopath nor a genius.) Again, why so serious? Anima wasn’t gonna come back. To hell with it! What’s so amazing about having her in my life anyway? I watched her die on the inside every single day, but I didn’t care. You know what? Since I’m dead, and this is some sort of confession, I’m not gonna lie to you: I loved her, more than anything, or anyone, and even though I never told her, or tried to retrieve her, I still watched her from afar. I loved her, but I didn’t save her. Yeah, I could have, but I didn’t. Anima meant restrictions, and I just didn’t want to. What a monster am I, huh? Is that what you’re thinking? Well, wait for it!! Anyway, about my work .. well, I was .. a fraud! Yeah, right back at ya!! You just thought that I was a heartless person who stole other people’s stuff, including joy and peace! Well, yeah, that’s kinda true! Kinda nice, in fact! Well, it takes a real artist to be a con man, an artist, dude, an ARTIST! And oh yeah, I was one hell of an artist! One hell of an artist I was indeed!! Because I knew what my job implied, lying to people, I mean, I made sure I was never a victim of fraud. I believe in justice, right? Well, I was evading it as well! The first person who could EVER con me was myself, so I had to be honest with myself all from the start. And I was. I started this job at a young age, since I started to figure life out a little bit, to be more specific. It started with my schoolmates, and then with my neighbors, and then with the whole world. But you know what? The only one I was as true to as I was to myself was Anima. Yeah, that girl, she was really something. I couldn’t tell her even one single lie. Even when I told her off every time, I never lied. I told her the truth: I didn’t want her responsibility. I wasn’t ready for her. That was the truth, simply. So, where are we? Job. Love. Personality .. I’m not gonna tell you about my personality – look me in the eye and tell me you even need to ask it!! Oh, come on!! Some of you are actually thinking of asking me! What more do you want to find out?!! Do you think that just because I was capable of telling myself and Anima the truth, then there was some goodness in me? Well, wake up, sweetie! Not gonna happen! You can never con a con man, much less an artist like me!! Just give it up already! Don’t even try to argue, not even with yourself! If being honest with yourself is so damn amazing, why don’t you give it a shot?!! Why do you lie to yourself?! Come on, answer me! You’re not?! You’re not lying to yourself?!! Well, suit yourself!! Just keep it your way, but mark my words: I know the truth, and I know you are, by no means, perfectly capable of telling yourself the truth all the time! Life is painful, babe, and lying is the painkiller! Yeah, been there, so I kinda know it, for real!! You may be good at that, real good, but don’t even start telling me that it meant I had the goodness of the world in me, or even a fraction of it. I won’t believe you, and you will be lying to yourself. I’m hopeless, so let me go already! Anyway, back to being the sweet kind writer! I’m sure I missed something up there! Job, Anima .. personality, yeah, yeah .. well .. ! Oh my God!! The truck!! I never told you what my truck was doing there!! Well, yeah, here’s the story. It’s a bit of a cloudy afternoon. I’ve just conned a really wealthy guy, and took a big bunch of money. It was a good day. But was it? No, not even close. Even a dark person like me hated clouds, but there was more than that. I haven’t seen Anima in days and weeks. As much as I hated being around her commitment, I need her more than anything else. I can’t live without her, reader dude. She’s my everything, and I was her everything. She can’t have found someone else, she just can’t, but .. she’s left me too! Now she’s all alone, and it makes me feel terrible. What if she never comes back? What if that’s it? What will I do? Yeah, I’m dead anyway, so I can’t say ‘will’. I have to admit, since I decided to be honest with you too: the only reason why I’m so dreadful I’m going to hell is because I won’t see her anymore. Maybe I’ll meet her there. Yes, I want her to go to hell – I want to see her by any means. But .. hell is fearful, so I’ve heard. I deserve it, but she doesn’t. Now I hate justice more than ever. I’m never gonna see Anima again. Justice means that. But .. God, I’ve also heard you’re so merciful. If I could wish for anything, it would be a moment with her, just one, please. This sentence seems as ordinary as the previous ones, but you don’t know how long I stopped, with that pen in my hand, waiting for the will to make it write again. She’s not here. But who am I to ask for mercy? Me? The con man? I’m going to hell. I just .. I just hope she doesn’t kill herself after me. I deserve hell, and she deserves heaven. I can’t see her suffer there. She’s been through enough suffering in Vita already. God, please, if seeing her means that she’ll die and join me in death, then may I die here as well than see her suffer in hell. Please. I never asked you for anything before, and I never will. That’s all I ask. Please, for the sake of anyone dear to you. Please … My pen lies miserable in my hand, and my eyes just won’t stop letting go of tears. I don’t know if you’ll see these pages wet with my tears, or if they’ll look different, but those tears are the last I’ve got left. They’re the last proof that I’m human. If you see those tears, will you get them to Anima. Would you tell her I’m sorry? I’m sorry for every day I .. not every day: every moment, every second I spent away from her. I’m sorry for every single time I turned away and told her off. I’m so sorry. I never meant to do her such harm, I swear. Anima, sweetie, the love of my life, if you’re reading this, it means you’re still alive – the angel nodded when I asked him to deliver this to anyone still alive, on earth. Please, stay alive. It’s hard to survive me, I know. I did you so much hurt, and damage, I know. You suffered a lot on my behalf, I know. I know, I swear, I know. I know everything, and I’ve always known. I just took you for granted. I thought that, even though we’re not together, that I’d see your face every morning. Just to be honest .. I knew you were in the hospital, somewhere between life and death, because of me. Yes, my friends told me, but I didn’t come. I couldn’t see you like that, not after you were so alive. It made me more afraid to lose you, and here I am. I lost you, and myself, forever. Please, don’t die. Keep on fighting. Please … I’m sorry. I will wipe away the tears now, and go on with the story .. the story of my death. I was on my way home, with the clouds above my head. It’d been days since I last saw Anima, and they felt like years indeed. True, I feel more free to do whatever I pleased – she’d still been able to get to me and make me do what was right sometimes – but now that she’s gone, there’s not a chance. But there came the chance, Chance. There was a little boy crossing the street to catch the ball before it fell, but he found a little toy on the ground. Some other kid must’ve thrown it out some passing car’s window. He neglected the ball, and bent down on the toy. He was in the middle of the street, and it was all too fast. Yeah, yeah, sounds like a movie! Well, it sure felt like one!! Something about that kid … I was NEVER a fan of kids, EVER! Anima loved them, but I hated them, just like I hated Vita, and just like I hated myself, and everything but Anima. Something about that kid made me stop .. it felt just like seeing Anima, just like feeling her around. Well, you know what? He reminded me so much of her that I was suddenly ready to pay my life in return for feeling her around. If she’d been there, she’d have saved that child from the fast-coming truck. In one last desperate try to feel her as strongly as the five-year-old child inside me, I ran and pushed the kid away from the truck. Not in my entire life did I ever feel as amazing as that felt. You know what? My whole life passed right before my eyes, and the ONLY moment that I felt was worth watching was the moment I got hit by that truck. Now that I’m dead, I can find out some stuff, like the boy’s name – Chance it was – and that he is now alive and well. He forgot about me pretty fast. He just took the toy and ran after his ball. But I don’t care. I just love him, and myself, and Anima. Yes, I was the criminal who earned a second chance, to see the one he loved, and feel her around again. You know what? I saw Anima again. She and I are one now. It’s hard to understand. Things now are way too different from what they were when I first started writing this. But that doesn’t matter either. I don’t know where the angel is. I don’t know where the boy is. I don’t know anything. All I’m aware of is the pen in my hand, and Anima inside me, finally, after thirty years of telling her off, finally she told my stupid ego off. She’s finally inside me. Now that she’s here, I can no longer care where I’m going. As long as she’s there, it’ll feel like heaven. Not that I deserve it, but because there’s more to things than what they look like. There was more to Vita, there was more to that kid, that truck, to ME, than what it looks like. I now know that had I embraced Anima years ago, I would have been sure I’d go to heaven all from the start. You know why? Because I will have lived there all from the start. Without her, heaven is just a word, but with her inside me, Vita, my job, even myself with all my faults and goodnesses .. those would have been just words. And now they are. I gotta go now. The angel’s been waiting for long now, but he always has that smile on his face – kinda scary, but .. so soothing at the same time! Yeah, I’m going mad, probably, but Anima’s with me. I’m no longer scared of anything, anything at all. I now have my soul back. Oh yeah, I forgot and the angel reminded me! You owe this to the angel!! I’d told you that this turned out to be the story of what my name meant. You know what? All those years, I never was a fan of languages. I never knew that, in Latin, Vita meant Life, Anima meant Soul, or that Klemens meant Merciful .. and I never even knew what Chance meant. I guess it is not about languages after all. But I’m happy .. happy .. happy. I’m alive.   First draft: May 20, 2013

The Start of Something Good I never thought I would be run over by a truck that big and live to tell about it. Well, technically, I’m not even alive, but I’m writing this, aren’t I? That’s gotta count. I guess in my case, the light at the end of the tunnel was just the headlights. I knew it was coming and I knew it was the end. There was just nothing I could do. That’s it. That’s how I died. Yeah, I’ve seen—Wait, is that the right tense anymore? I’ve seen? I’d seen? … Whatever! As I was saying, I’ve seen it a lot in movies before: the guy who gets killed by a truck. Maybe my driver was drunk. Maybe he was on the phone. Maybe he was searching for some can of Cola that fell off the dashboard. Argh, what do I care? I’m DEAD! Do you hear me? DEAD! I don’t feel dead, though, not really. Is that how it’s supposed to feel? I mean, I’m still wearing the same café-au-lait blazer and blue jeans. I can still smell my perfume, the one I got as a gift on … which birthday was it? My sister was desperate to make me love life again. Yes, here it is. I said it out loud. I hated my life, every bit of it. Anyhow, back to what matters, which is how I feel now! I don’t feel any lighter. I don’t feel like I’m floating or flying away, which is weird because … I don’t really have a body anymore. Wait, could I be dreaming? I mean, I’ve seen that before, in movies and books. Maybe not in books; I don’t even read! Movies are easier, dude! High-five! Who on earth am I even high-fiving? Or should I say in heaven? … People like me don’t go to heaven, though. Makes sense. I don’t even deserve heaven; I never did a thing to earn it. I deserve hell—no one can deny that—but if only I could take one quick look at heaven, just from outside, just a really quick peek, and—OH MY GOD! WHO THE HELL ARE YOU? I’m not really sure why I’m writing this. Or how. Or whether I’m writing at all; I’m not holding a pen, but the words are streaming right before my eyes … And punctuated too! Man, my mama would be proud! Back to the person I just shouted at! I’m standing in this … place, and a white-dressed dude appears right in front of me. I think he’s an angel. Not that I know enough about angels to tell, you know, but he looks like one, or (which I find quite weird, by the way) feels like one. It’s comforting to have him, actually, come to think of it. I hope he doesn’t know how to read ‘cause I don’t want him knowing this, but everything I think somehow makes it to that floating piece of golden paper. Time is weird here. It feels like a lifetime ago when that truck hit me and I died, and it’s been so … lonely. It’s actually good to have someone here. He has this aura of safety, and it’s such a welcome change, honestly, ‘cause since I died, all I’ve felt was … fear. Don’t get me wrong. It’s not the kind of fear that one gets when alive. This one’s different. It’s more of a … fear of not knowing. For instance, what happened to that little girl—or was it a boy? Wow, I don’t even remember. Must have been the adrenaline. Yeah, that’s gotta be it. But I don’t wanna talk about that boy—girl—little kid! The being sitting here with me is far more intriguing. I just realized that it can’t be good that he’s here, actually, and he can’t be an angel either. Why? Because I’m going to hell and I know it. And the fact that he’s here means I’m not dreaming; I’m actually dead. I have some stuff that I know about God for sure, if there’s a God. You know, the general stuff that we all know under different names. Justice is one of those stuff. I believe in that justice more than his so-called mercy. No, seriously, hear me out! What kind of god would throw his creation in a world like this? Humans killing humans, torturing them every day, verbally, physically, abandoning them, leaving them for dead. Well, that’s just too much pain, too much injustice. But I still clang on to that belief in justice before I died, the justice of that mystery god that I “worshipped”—and I’m laughing as I write it, just so you know. Actually, you know what? I’m glad I’m going to hell. At least that **** will make more sense there! (Asterisks for curse words? Seriously?) I feel like I gotta explain at this point: my mom was an English teacher. I know my punctuation marks; I just don’t use them. Or didn’t. Now they’re being used for me. Jeez! My name is Klemens, by the way. Hi. I’m from Vita, a town of absolutely nothing. It’s where I was born and the place I wished to leave behind after Anima, the love of my life, died and I died with her long before that truck hit me. Don’t go all aww on me; I don’t deserve it. I was the one that killed her, okay? Well, not literally, but she did die on the inside, and it was because of me. You know what …? I was stupid to let her go. I can see that now. I knew she loved me. I knew she wanted me the whole time, and she tried and tried to come back to me, but I … I was the idiot who wouldn’t take her hand even once. I lost her. Anima finally gave up on me. She promised she would never fall in love again, or get married, and she kept her promise. People told me things about her whenever I saw them. Friends kept trying to get us back together, but I just didn’t want to. Loving her meant that I had to give up on so many things, and I just wasn’t ready. It meant family, home, rules … responsibility. I was never gonna commit, so why even bother? My whole life, I’ve been honest with myself. I’m not telling you those details now that I’m dead, like suddenly it’s all becoming clear. I always knew. Always. I was just too passive to lift a finger and try to change things. And I was never gonna change. I knew I could; I just didn’t want to. My friends’ attempts were condemned to failure, and so I never got back to Anima, my childhood friend, the only one I ever loved. I watched her die on the inside every day … and I didn’t care. You know what? Since I’m dead and this is some sort of confession, I’m not gonna lie to you: I loved her, more than anything or anyone, even though I never told her that. I loved her, and I didn’t save her. I could have … and I didn’t. Anima meant restrictions, and I didn’t want those. If you’re thinking I’m a monster, you are right! But you don’t know the half of it, so keep reading. I was a fraud. That’s my job. But, see, it takes a real artist to be a con man. An artist, dude. An artist! And oh boy, I was one hell of an artist! One hell of an artist I was indeed, huh … Because I knew what my job implied—lying to people, I mean—I made sure I would never be a victim of fraud myself. I believe in justice, right? Well, that made me no different from everybody else: I tried to run from it! The first person who could ever con me would be myself, so I had to be honest with myself all from the start. And I was. I started this job at a young age—since I started to figure life out a little bit, to be more specific. It started with my schoolmates, then with my neighbors, then with the whole world. But you know what? I could never bring myself to lie to Anima. Anima and I were one, even if we never got together. I was as true to her as I was to myself. Even when I told her off every time, I never lied. I told her the truth: I didn’t want her responsibility. I wasn’t ready for her. At this point, I believe some of you might think me redeemable just because I mentioned honesty and awareness of justice. If you are one of those people, my dear reader, you are a fool. Anyway, since this is possibly my last contact ever with the living, I wanna make sure I covered everything. Let’s see. We covered my name, job, Anima. I’m missing something … Oh my God, the truck! I never told you about the truck, did I? Okay, okay, here we go. It’s a bit of a cloudy afternoon. I’ve just conned a really wealthy guy and taken a big bunch of money. It’s a good day. Except it isn’t. I hate clouds. Even someone as dark as me is entitled to love the sun, you know. Cloudy days make me think, and when I think, I think about my lost Anima. Well, that was one of those days. I hadn’t seen Anima in days—weeks, actually. As much as I hate being around her commitment, I need her more than anything else. I can’t live without her. She’s my everything, and I was her everything. She can’t have found someone else, she just can’t, so now she’s all alone, and it makes me feel terrible. What if she never comes back? What if … that’s it? Oh, I forgot. I’m dead. Regret is pointless now. Since I decided to be honest with you too, I gotta admit: I’m a little scared of going to hell. I mean, I know I had it coming, but … then I won’t see her anymore. I wish she’d go to hell too. But no, hell is fearful; so I’ve heard. I deserve it, but she doesn’t. No, she doesn’t. Now I hate justice more than ever. I’m never gonna see Anima again. But … God, I’ve also heard you’re so merciful. If I could wish for anything, it would be a moment with her. Just one, please. See those three dots right there? You have no idea how long I paused, do you? You paused, what, half a second reading this? Well, I stopped a lifetime. I watched my whole life pass right before my eyes in that ellipsis, and I am on my knees, crying my fill of tears, and it’s all because of my stupid, stupid ego. But who am I to ask for mercy? I just ... I just hope she doesn’t kill herself after me. I deserve hell, and she deserves heaven. I can’t see her suffer there. She’s been through enough suffering in Vita already. God, please, if seeing her means that she’ll die and join me in death, then let me perish here too. I’d rather be forgotten than see her suffer in death as well. Please. I never asked you for anything before, and I never will again. If you can hear me, that’s all I ask. Please, for the sake of all that’s dear to you. Please … If I was writing this down myself, you’d see a paper stained with tears. As it is, magical paper doesn’t get wet. But these tears are all I’ve got left. They’re the last proof that I’m human. If you get this letter, will you tell this to Anima? Will you tell her I’m sorry? I’m sorry for every day I—not every day; every second, every moment—I spent away from her. I’m sorry for every single time I walked out on her. I’m so sorry. I never meant to do her such harm, I swear. Anima, sweetie, the love of my life, if you’re reading this, it means you’re still alive. Please, stay alive. It’s hard to survive me, I know. I did you so much hurt and damage, I know. You suffered a lot on my behalf, I know. I know, I swear. I know. I know everything, and I’ve always known. I just took you for granted. I thought that even though we weren’t together, I’d see your face every morning. Just to be honest … I knew you were in the hospital, somewhere between life and death, because of me. Yes, my friends told me, but I didn’t come. I couldn’t see you like that, not after you were so full of life. It made me more afraid to lose you, and here I am. I lost you, and myself, forever. Please, don’t die. Keep on fighting. Please … I’m sorry. I will wipe away the tears now and go on with the story … the story of my death. I was on my way home, with the clouds above my head. It’d been weeks since I last saw Anima. I felt freer to do whatever I pleased. Even with all my stubbornness, I gave in to her sometimes, did what was right. But with her locked up in a hospital far, far from my conscience, I went about like there was no tomorrow. But there came the chance for me to do one thing right, my final tribute to Anima. There was a little kid crossing the street, chasing after some ball. They seemed to stop when they found a little toy on the ground. It must have flown out of some passing car’s window. The kid neglected the ball and bent down to pick the toy. They were in the middle of the street, and it was all too fast. Yeah, yeah, sounds like a movie. Well, it sure felt like one! Something about that kid … I was never a fan of kids, like, ever! Anima loved them, but I hated them, just like I hated Vita, just like I hated myself, just like I hated everything but Anima. Something about that kid made me stop, though. It felt just like seeing Anima. It felt exactly the way it did when she was around. You know what? He reminded me so much of her that I was suddenly ready to give my life as a small price to pay for feeling her around. If she’d been there, she would have saved that child from the fast-coming truck. But she wasn’t there; I was. I don’t know how to explain it, but it was like that was the moment I knew Anima would die if I didn’t take action. I would kill her if I didn’t step in. That was the moment I truly realized how much I loved her. In one last desperate try to feel her as strongly as the five-year-old me used to, I ran and pushed the kid away from the truck. Not in my entire life did I ever feel as amazing as that felt. It’s funny, actually, because at that precise moment, my soul returned to my body just before it left it forever and came here. My whole life passed right before my eyes, and the only moment I felt was worth watching was the moment I got hit by that truck. Now that I’m dead, I magically know some stuff, like the kid’s name. Chance. Cheesy name, huh! You might be happy to know that they're alive and well. They forgot about me pretty fast, took the toy and ran after the ball. But I don’t care. I just love that kid, and myself, and Anima. Yes, I was the criminal who earned a second chance, to see the one he loved and feel her around again. You know what? I saw Anima again. She and I are one now. It’s hard to understand. Things now are way too different from what they were when I first arrived here and this thing started writing itself. I don’t know where the angel is. I don’t know where the kid is. I don’t know anything. All I’m aware of is the Anima in me. After thirty years of telling her off, she finally won over my stupid ego. Now that she’s here, I can no longer care where I’m going. As long as she’s here, it’ll feel like heaven. Saving that kid doesn’t mean I think I deserve it, but I’m a fraud and a thief; would I really be bothered if I steal heaven instead of rightfully going where I belong, with my inner demons to keep me company? There was more to Vita, you know. There was more to that kid, that truck, me. I now know that if I’d embraced Anima years ago, I would have been sure I’d go to heaven, all from the start. You know why? Because I will have already been there. Without her, heaven is just a word, but with her inside me, Vita, my job, even myself with all my faults and goodness ... those would have been just words. And now they are. And that’s my story, ladies and gentlemen. The story of how I stole heaven. The story of how I got my soul back. And the story of how my name made sense at the very last moment of my life and became my ticket to reuniting with the love of my life: merciful. Funny how life works, huh! It took death for me to feel alive. But it doesn’t matter. I’m here now, and I have a feeling this will be the start of something good.   Third draft: July 7, 2023.