Letting you go [COMPLETE]

Chapter 6

Warning: this chapter contains some insults against Christianity, though it's more inferred than anything. If you're christian don't take any of it too personally because this is fiction. If it offends you I'm sorry. Also, if anything I say is wrong about the religion tell me. I know nothing about Christianity because I don't believe in it so there may be a mistake somewhere.

Unedited because this took long enough to write as it was. Add editing? No way.

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My eyes open. It takes sheer will but I open them.

What I see comes as a shock. I’d expected heaven—or hell, for that matter.

 Not this.

Not a white ceiling, so boring it hurts to look at. Unless the history books have it all wrong—which wouldn’t surprise me—I’m neither in heaven nor hell. Weren’t you supposed to see god, sitting upon his throne like the superior being he was? Or even Jesus? If I was being honest, the fact that I didn’t see him didn’t surprise me. God didn’t exact. Neither did Jesus. They were just made up people that had been created so people didn’t feel guilt over things that ‘they didn’t control.’ It was all lies—there was no god that granted magic wishes upon people and there was no god that controlled life and death. If that was true I wouldn’t be dead because someone had decided to give me cancer.

Why now? How did this happen? I can’t help but wonder. Sick as it may be, I hope that my death had been a spectacular one—some fireworks, a light show . . . something. I’m aware that it’s a little twisted to think that way but I can’t help it. I’d been nothing but ordinary my entire life. Yes, I’d had cancer but I hadn’t been the first child to be diagnosed. Would I be the last? No. More children would only suffer the same fate I had. I’d just wanted to do something that was memorable. Since it hadn’t happened when I was alive, I can only hope it had happened during my death.

Still, the question keeps plaguing my mind: how did I die?

I wish I could remember but I can’t. Every time I’d tried to remember, I’d just come up blank. Even now I was at a blank. I’d been hoping I’d find that out when the life flashing was supposed to happen. But that hadn’t happened yet. So it remained a mystery. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever find out but I hadn’t completely given up hope yet. Who knows, god might decide to grant me a dying wish. Maybe if I convinced him I was a believer, he’d give the opportunity to find out one thing.

It’s futile and probably not good for my psyche, but there’s a part of me that’s hoping I’m not dead. That somehow—in a miraculous recovery—I’ll come back to life.

 I hold onto the hope. Surely the white light is called that because it’s white. It makes sense. After all, who calls a purple room black? No one. So this has to be the white light. And if I’m right I could save me. This is supposed to be the part where your guardian angel is supposed to swoop in and rescue you from the brink of death. I’d failed to see my guardian angel throughout my life, so maybe, just maybe, they’d been waiting for the perfect opportunity. Now is as good as ever, I think, in hopes they’ll get the message quicker—

A black shadow fills my vision, almost blocking out the white. I squint, trying to get a closer look. My eyebrows draw in confusion. It looks like . . . hair? I can’t help frowning. Why would I see hair? This up-close?

“She moved! Her hand moved!” A feminine voice, sounding vaguely familiar yells, followed by heavy sobs.

A face appears, stunning blue eyes catching my attention instantly. They’re so familiar it hurts. The last thing I want to see it mum’s eyes, so familiar and so comforting. The tears I see in them would have killed me—if I wasn’t already dying. I have to remind myself that I’m imagining everything and I try to block the sight. I don’t want to see what the cancer has done to my family. Knowing is bad enough. I’d rather pretend to be ignorant to the fact that I’ll be leaving a heart broken family behind. I’d much rather remember the happier moments, before the tumour had started to spread too fast to stop.