Get Me Out of Heaven

Chapter 1: My Ride

"Hello, everyone. My name is Rue Asbury, and I'm-"

Dead. That's what I am. But that's not what I was going to say, of coarse.

You see, I was on a stage in front of 5,000 people. I was about to recite my famous poem, The Meadow of Dust, when something fell overhead. It was a large metal bucket, filled with rainbow confetti, that somebody backstage was supposed to tip over when I finished reading.  The bottom of the cold bucket hit the top of my head, causing me to collapse on the spot. My parents brought me to the hospital, but it was already too late. My skull was cracked from the impact of the bucket and they probably knew I would've never been the same if I survived.

I feel terrible about dying on them like that. I left my friends, family, everyone. At least I didn't have any pets to be confused about why I never came back home. That would've broken my heart. I died probably about 10 minutes ago, but I just took the time now to observe my surroundings. I was sitting on a plane with a bunch of others. Some are crying, some look uncomfortably happy, and the rest just confused and shocked, like me. The woman sitting next to me suddenly started talking.

"You look puzzled. This is the plane to the Division Cloud," she said.

The Division Cloud? I cocked my head a little bit in question.

She began again, "Don't worry, I found all of this out a few minutes ago, too. Apparently, the Division Cloud is where all of us dead people get selected to go to Heaven or Hell. It's a funny thing, I never believed in Heaven and all that during my life, but I guess that was wrong. I hope my disbelief doesn't make me go to...the other side. By the way, you can call me Ariel."

I stared at her, then shifted my gaze downward. I really hope I get into Heaven. I can't really think of many examples that would land me in Hell. When I asked how long it would take to get there, she simply shrugged. I looked out the window, only to see clouds and a pink and orange sky. It must be around sundown. I closed my cold fist around my onyx necklace and examined my outfit.

I was wearing a soft cotton dress with a faux leather belt. I had knee high, black, lace up boots that matched my necklace. It was exactly what I was wearing when I died. My hand brushed my face, taking a thin layer of foundation off of my cheek. It was a few shades darker than my pale skin. I guess I never noticed the color difference.

Now that I was starting to remember the details of my actual life, reality started to sink in. I was a 16-year-old girl, who was just starting to learn how to drive, and I was sitting here on a Death Plane that was leading me to my new home. I didn't know if that's what they're called, but that's what they pretty much are. Planes made specifically for the deceased who are on their way to the Division Cloud. And I'm amongst them. My life wasn't supposed to be this way. No. I was supposed to get married to my dream man, have beautiful and successful children, and become a grandmother. There was so much I wanted to achieve during my life, but some jerk decided to drop a bucket on my head. My cranium. You know, what I use to think with. Even if it was an accident, I'll never forgive that person. Neither will my family, I know they won't. They can't.

My angry thoughts were torn apart when the plane suddenly jolted. My head whacked against the back of my seat. I heard a low voice be projected throughout the plane.

"We have arrived at the DC. Thank you all fer flyin' wit' us today."