Hi everyone! This is actually my first time on this site, and my first post, so I apologize if I do this wrong. Anyways here are the first few chapters of a story I worked on a couple of years ago. I decided to trash it, but I later dug it up on my hard drive. At one point I was pretty passionate about it, but I ended up falling in love with another story, and am currently working on that instead. But I guess this as good a home as any for this old story! Keep in mind that I am a nursing student, not a writer, lol. Thanks for reading!
CHAPTER 1 (whoops, I guess I can't post all 3 - they are too long! But here's ch. 1
)
It was the first second of the first day of the first month of the year. A Sunday, no less. It was a time for beginnings, if ever there was one. Mark Lawson loved beginnings. He felt that they allowed for endless possibilities, and that they challenged you to see life in a different light, if only for a moment.
Mark was about to see his life in a very different light. He started this particular beginning lying on an unfamiliar king size bed with mahogany oak posts that reached grandly towards the ceiling. He slept an uncomfortable dreamless sleep, the kind that leaves you disoriented and unhappy. Mark would have dreamt about his previous New Year’s Day celebrations, the sandy blonde haired girl that he loved, or the day that he got lost in the woods when he was seven if he could have. But Mark had no memories. None at all. So it was with a very unsettled feeling that he started this particular beginning.
Mark’s eyes shot open to a pitch black room that wouldn’t have been familiar even if he had been able to see. He groggily rubbed his deeply set hazel eyes and searched for a light. His mind was quite befuddled--the thoughts that ran through it hung mockingly just out of reach, as they do when you are unable to articulate the word that is on the tip of your tongue. He yawned and tried unsuccessfully to clear his head as he stumbled gracelessly out of bed.
Where the hell is the light switch? He wondered.
Mark’s eyes blindly swept the room. He tried very hard to remember the events of the previous night. With a sick groan he wondered whether he had had too much to drink. He racked his brain for answers, but didn’t find any. One thing, however, was on the forefront of his mind.
I need coffee, he decided resolutely.
As soon as the thought had occurred to him, he noticed that his room was indeed saturated with the aroma of a freshly brewed pot. He dropped back onto his bed and reached towards his night table, where he could make out the outline of a coffee maker and a steaming mug of what smelled to be his favorite blend.
He picked up the mug and breathed in the aroma, grateful to whoever had brewed the coffee for him. He was slightly uneasy, however, because he hadn’t a clue as to who that could have been. He also came to the realization that he was in an unfamiliar room. This was not his bedroom.
And where is that light? He found it very peculiar that he had a full-sized coffee maker on his nightstand, yet no lamp.
He decided to simply make his way out of the room in the dark, so he rose and carefully felt his way to the door.
A sharp pain shot through his foot as his big toe found the door for him. He cursed under his breath and groped around blindly for the doorknob.
As he pulled open the door he looked around desperately for some trace of light. No light could be found, and he began to creep along, running his hand up and down the wall in search of a light switch.
He had taken but three steps when a menacing, glowing face appeared out of nowhere, inches from his face, and let out a scream.
“Ahhhhh!!” yelled Mark as he fell to the ground. A gunshot rang out, and the stranger laughed wickedly. He bent down next to Mark and grabbed him by the shirt.
“Do you want to die? Huh?” he asked as he pressed the gun firmly against his temple.
But before Mark had time to respond, a roar of laughter rang from down the hall. He squinted as the hallway was drenched in light, revealing a small crowd gathered along the length of the hallway.
Mark looked up at the stranger, who was juggling a gun and a flashlight. The man was tall with dark hair and wore intricate tattoos upon his arms. He appeared to be in his late twenties, possibly a few years older than Mark. He had the face of a hardened criminal, with a crooked scar stretching from his left ear up through his nose to the center of his forehead. The man looked incredibly menacing, but a grin soon spread across his face.
“Hey! Good to meet ya!” exclaimed the stranger with a firm handshake. “The name’s Rudy. Short for Rudolph, but that does not leave this room,” he added in a low voice, frowning slightly.
Mark stared blankly up at the man called Rudy, at a complete loss for words. His eyes swept the room from one unfamiliar face to the next, which varied from very young children to men who looked older than death, and he even spotted a few animals, such as a golden retriever, a sleek black cat, and to his amazement a skunk who was peering casually around the corner of the hallway. His eyes lingered for half a second longer on a beautiful brunette with large almond shaped eyes that appeared to be different colors, and dark hair that cascaded down to her waist.
Looking back at Rudy, he said, “You fired a blank, didn’t you?”
“No, no,” Rudy laughed. “Would a blank do that?” He gestured towards the open door directly behind Mark. Mark gasped as he caught sight of the splintered wood protruding from the edge of the door he had just walked through.
“Oh, don’t worry. It’s not permanent,” said Rudy. As Mark looked incredulously from Rudy back to the door, he noticed the shards of wood mysteriously bending back into place. He rubbed his eyes and looked again, and the door was unscathed.
“That was it?” interrupted the brunette. “Honestly, from the way you’ve been bragging, I assumed that you had something more dramatic planned.” She looked quite unimpressed, although a hint of a smile played on her lips.
“Well, Jasmine, I actually did have more planned out, but I didn’t have enough time to prepare! He woke up too suddenly,” said Rudy disappointedly. “I was planning on taking him out to sea, which would have been where the real fun would have started.”
“Sure,” said Jasmine. “The
real fun.” She turned to whisper something into the ear of the girl next to her, and Mark watched as they erupted into giggles. Jasmine met his eyes, but instantly blushed and looked away.
“Ok then, Jas, next time it’s your turn. Let’s see if you can come up with something better!” Rudy said, as he carelessly tossed her the handgun. She smiled as she caught it and dropped it into her purse.
Mark was still shaking slightly as he remained crouched over on the floor. He felt as if he was dreaming. He frantically searched his memory, trying to establish where he was and who these people were. A wave of uneasiness swept through him. He felt helplessly lost.
“Let me guess. You feel helplessly lost.” Mark looked up and met eyes with the girl standing next to Jasmine. She had strawberry blond hair and bright blue eyes. “Don’t worry, it’s only temporary,” the girl added sympathetically.
Mark could respond with the only question on his mind.
“What’s going on?” he said, now more alert than groggy. “Where am I, and who are you?”
“Well I’m Roslyn,” said the blue eyed girl good-naturedly. “You’ll become acquainted with everyone here in time. And you are in
your house--a very nice choice, may I add--and you have
all the time in the world to find out what’s going on…”
“Literally,” snorted an old woman, leaning on her walker in the corner.
“Let’s do the dead man’s drop!” shouted a Southerner with flaming red hair. The golden retriever barked enthusiastically in agreement and jumped in a circle as everyone began chattering excitedly and herded Mark down the hallway.
Something in the pit of Mark’s stomach was urging him to push his way back into his room, lie down, and pray to be awoken from this very strange and confusing dream, but he could not turn back for fear of being trampled. He grit his teeth and continued down the hall with the group of strangers, quite sure he had gone insane.
“Don’t worry,” whispered Jasmine from his left, as they ascended a spiraling staircase. “I promise this won’t be nearly as painful as you will expect. Trust me. Well, possibly psychologically…”
“What won’t be as painful?” grunted Mark. But before Jasmine could answer, Mark was being pulled forward through a door at the top of the stairs. He gasped as he took in the breathtaking view. The sun was rising behind what seemed to be a never ending stretch of ocean lapping along over a stretch of boulders.
“Wow,” Mark breathed.
“I know!” exclaimed Roslyn as she gazed with wonder out over the rising sun. “I told you, you made an excellent choice! Good taste,” she added with a wink.
“Um--” Mark started, but Rudy interrupted him with a quick shove.
“Enough chatter, enough chatter,” said Rudy as he dragged Mark to the edge of the balcony. He boosted himself up onto the railing, and demonstrated a great deal of balance as he stood up and looked out over the crowd.
“So, we are gathered here today in honor of our latest arrival--uh--” Rudy gestured inquiringly at Mark for a moment. Mark, startled, muttered, “Mark.”
“Ah, yes. Mark. A wonderful, slightly boring, name. But, nonetheless, it is the name of the man we are taking on today as our brother, our comrade, our friend, our neighbor, our nephew, our second-cousin, our great-aunt, our--”
“Moving on…” said a young pigtailed girl impatiently, as the skunk slid against Mark’s left leg.
“The point is that today is a day of celebration. A day to go down in history. But first, we must demonstrate to Mark what exactly it is that he is dealing with.”
Rudy, with the help of the front row of the crowd, hoisted Mark up onto the railing and spun him around. Mark looked down and nearly lost his balance as he glanced upon the jagged rocks below. He estimated that they were about 100 feet up, and he was longing very much to be back on the other side of the railing.
“Well, you must like living on the edge, with a balcony like this,” said Rudy. “This is just a hazard waiting to happen,” he added with a slightly disapproving tone.
Mark didn’t even hear what Rudy said as he stood swaying precariously from side to side.
“So, who wants to see him jump?” Rudy suddenly shouted.
Mark snapped his head quickly towards Rudy in alarm as the crowd cheered, but before he could do anything else Rudy kicked the back of his kneecap, causing his leg to buckle and send him lurching forward into the emptiness. He screamed as he rushed to meet the jagged rocks below, pure terror pulsing through his veins. He didn’t have time to search for an explanation as he landed with a thud upon the rocks.
He lay there dazed, as he stared blankly up at the multi-colored sky. His body was contorted into the strangest of angles-- he could see his abdomen stretched out bizarrely before him, like a cartoon, over one particularly jagged rock. Yet he was neither bleeding nor feeling any pain at all, despite his violent plunge. His body regained its natural form as he slowly sat up, and he rubbed his head instinctively. He noticed something dangling inches from his head, and as he looked up he noticed that it was a thick rope, hanging from the balcony from which he had just plunged.
He cautiously grabbed onto the rope and wrapped his body around it. It snapped remarkably quickly upwards, and before he could even blink Mark was being hauled over the railing, back onto the balcony. He collapsed, panting, onto the marble floor.
“What was that?” shouted Mark as he regained his composure. “You’re all insane! I could have died! I mean, I should have died! I mean, WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO ME DOWN THERE?!?”
Jasmine walked slowly up to Mark, a genuine look of concern on her face. “Mark, you
are dead,” she said softly as she stroked his arm consolingly.
Mark shook his head blankly, refusing to acknowledge her absurd claim. “That’s--No--I--”
“Actually, we all are,” she added calmly. “This is the afterworld, Mark. Something must have happened to you in your past life, and now you’re here with us.”
Mark stood there for a moment, desperately racking his brain in an effort to come up with evidence to the contrary. Everyone stood in silence as they waited for Jasmine’s words to sink in.
“You won’t be able to remember anything from your past, Mark,” Roslyn piped in. “No one comes here with any memories of their past lives. That tends to simplify things, I think, and allows everyone to be cheerful, and at peace.”
“I don’t want to be cheerful, or at peace! I just want to be back at home right now!” Mark began pacing frantically as he tried with all his might to conjure an image of exactly what “home” was.
“This is your home now!” said Jasmine. “I know it’s scary, because everything is new to you, but you really have no choice but to accept it. This is your life now, Mark. And we are all part of it!” she added, gesturing towards the awaiting crowd.
“You know, you should be excited!” said Rudy. “This place is paradise! And the parking’s always free after five PM…”
“We’ll fill you in on the technicalities later,” said Jasmine as she guided Mark away from Rudy. “We don’t want you to be overwhelmed.”
“Not… overwhelmed…” croaked Mark.
An old couple walked up to Mark and shook his hand. “Hello, my name is Esther and this is Frank,” the elderly woman said as she gestured to her husband. “We’re sorry to have to leave so soon, but we have a game of bridge to attend to. It was very nice meeting you, dear.”
“Um, nice meeting you too,” muttered Mark. He turned back to Jasmine and asked, “So, do you mean to tell me that this is heaven? And… that… people play bridge in heaven?”
Jasmine laughed. “Well I guess you can consider this heaven, although in reality it differs quite dramatically from the ideas people have of heaven back on earth. And, yes, people play bridge in heaven, although those people could
probably be narrowed down to just Esther and Frank…”
“This is boring,” wailed a seven year old boy who had just grown bored of a game of fetch that he had been playing with the skunk and a miniature Frisbee. “Make him jump off the balcony again!”
“Nah, not quite as exciting the second time around,” said the redheaded Southerner. He sighed and turned to exit through the hall, saying “We’ll just have to wait for another newbie to come.”
“So, you do this to everyone?”
“Well, we try to initiate everyone in one way or the other,” said Rudy. “Jasmine actually wasn’t initiated though; she was awake and had figured everything out before anyone had even realized she’d arrived. I, however, was lucky enough to have been tied down to some train tracks!” He sighed and looked longingly into the distance. “It was the most exhilarating moment of my life, er-- death.”
“What about you?” Mark asked Roslyn. “What did they do to you?”
“Me? Oh, well I was actually still in the womb when I died, so they would’ve had a hard time scaring me! I hadn’t even learned what fear was yet!”
Mark stared at Roslyn with his mouth hanging open. “So, you’ve grown up here?”
“Well,” said Roslyn. “When I first got here I was a fetus, so they took me to the Competence office to get me aged to be 18. That’s standard procedure for all children who don’t meet the Competence Requirements. If you’re too young to make decisions for yourself, you’re both physically and mentally aged so that you are able to think for yourself. At that point you can apply for any changes you want.”
“Changes?”
“Oh yeah,” continued Roslyn. “If you wanna to change your appearance for whatever reason, you can apply for a makeover at the Characterization Office.”
“Yeah, you see, that comes in handy for people with physical disfigurements, such as burn victims,” said Jasmine. “Most people don’t go through with it, though. As exciting as it seems it would be to change your appearance, it’s pretty terrifying to part with your old self. Most people are more than comfortable hanging onto their old appearances. Those who do undergo the Characterization process, however, are able to revert back to their old appearances at any time, although the process is tedious and requires quite a bit of paperwork.”
“Hmmm… so what about the people here?” Mark asked, motioning to the few people who had lingered out on the balcony. “Have they changed their appearances, or is this their natural forms?”
“Well, sometimes that information is kept strictly confidential,” said Roslyn, “but from what I know the young girl with the pigtails, Violet, used to be a 72 year old woman who wanted her youth back; there was a six foot tall blonde here somewhere earlier - I’m sure you couldn’t have missed her – her name is Justine, and she used to be a man named Justin with gender issues; the middle aged man standing in the corner over there was a police officer who’s patrol car had exploded in a tragic fender-bender; and I’m sure you’ve seen the various animals that were running through here earlier. Obviously they didn’t arrive here that way.”
“They didn’t?” exclaimed Mark, in shock.
“Nah, for some strange reason certain people lead a happier existence as animals,” said Jasmine. “I think it’s really strange, but to each their own I guess, right? Well, I happen to know that that grey cat over there used to be an old, lonely woman who had 27 cats. I guess it was just in her nature to become one!”
“Also, some people choose to become an inanimate object, which is really something I will NEVER understand,” said Roslyn.
“Wait…” said Mark. “So, if no one remembers their past lives, how do you know that that lady had 27 cats? Or that the cop was in a car accident?”
“Hmmm…” said Roslyn. “Well, that gets a little more complicated, but basically there is a way to learn about your past. There is a very high screening process you would have to go through, at the Recollection Office, and it’s very difficult to be approved. But if you are, you are able to regain your memories. From time to time you come across people who have, and they are usually more than eager to tell you their life stories.”
“So why doesn’t everyone do that?”
“Well, the nicest part about this place is that you have no problems, no baggage,” said Jasmine. “I’ve seen people who have lost their minds when they’ve found out about their pasts. That’s traumatic, learning about what you’ve left behind. Ignorance is bliss, you know. And once you regain your memory, you can’t have it erased. Most people understand that, although I’d have to say the majority of us have had the urge at one point or another to learn about who we used to be. That’s why they have you go through the intense screening process. They want to make sure that you are ready to handle the stress of it.”
“Ok, I think I understand… though…” Mark turned his attention to Rudy, who had rejoined them after having a few words with a redhead in a mini skirt. “You said that parking is free after five o’clock. If this is heaven, why do we have to pay for parking before five?”
“Oh, I see,” said Rudy as he looked Mark appraisingly up and down through squinted eyes. “You’re one of those glass-is-half-empty people, aren’t you?” Rudy turned on his heel and walked swiftly away, leaving Mark gaping in his wake.
