I felt the breeze on my face. It was cold. Very cold. I slowly opened my eyes. My whole body ached. What happened? I stared into the sky; it was blue. It was not a normal blue, however. It was a crisp, cold, light blue; it was a blue that seemed to be straight out of a horror movie. The sky was obscured by tree branches, old and dead. There were no leaves. I realized that the leaves were beneath me. How did I end up passed out on the ground? How did I get here? Was I on a hike? I had no idea. Thoughts rushed through my mind. However, it was just time wasted. I had to get up and figure out where I was.
I stood up and looked down at my body. I was wearing a white dress, but the wet ground and the dirt had caused it to turn grey and brown. It was also ripped in multiple spots. This will be a pain to clean and sew. When I get home, this is going straight in the trash.
All of a sudden, I began to hear multiple bells in the distance, almost as if they were beckoning me. I began to walk towards the noise. As I walked, I felt something cold and wet on my feet. I looked down, and there was a puddle.
I stared at the puddle. It was not a normal puddle. I could not see my reflection. However, I did see something else. It was a little girl, who appeared to be around the age of five or six, who was riding a bike. Behind her, an older man ran behind the bike. Slowly, he let go, and soon the girl was riding the bike by herself. The little girl did not realize, but she was riding the bike all by herself.
I looked up from the puddle. I realized I could not remember anything about me. Did I ever learn to ride a bike? Did I even have a father who was present? All of a sudden something changed; something in my brain clicked. That was me in the puddle. I was the little girl, and that older man was my father.
I had to keep going. I had to figure out where I was and who I was. I began to rush until I saw another puddle. I ran to it and looked down. Again, I could not see myself. Instead, I saw a teenage girl without a care in the world. She had a beautiful red dress on. She was surrounded by a group of friends, smiling and laughing. Her smile radiated through the giant gym filled with people as she danced. Again, I returned to my reality. I remembered. That teenage girl was also me and that gym was where my first homecoming was. I was so excited to wear that red dress, the red dress my mother had picked out for me.
The bells were getting louder. I must be going the right way. I ran some more, towards the sound of the bells. They were getting louder and louder. Then, I stopped at another large puddle. I was going to go around it, but as I was walking around, I looked into it. I saw a woman who looked exactly like me. There was a little boy, who looked around the age of two. He was crying. The woman picked up the boy. She hugged him and then set him down. The woman got on her knees and started to crawl around chasing the boy. The boy wiped his snot and tear covered face and began to smile. He ran away from his mother, appearing to giggle ferociously. The mother was also smiling and appeared to say something joyfully to the boy.
I paused. That was my son. I was his mother. Where is my son? I must go home. I must be with my family.
I ran towards the sound of the bells, and I did not stop. The images of trees whooshed passed my face, and I felt the cold breeze try to push me in the opposite direction.
Finally, I arrived where it seemed the sound of the bells was coming from. I was at a golden gate, shiny and clean. In front of it, a bright woman sat, propped up against it. I waved at her and tried to yell, but my shouts were not audible. The bells were too loud. However, the woman looked at me. She frowned. She looked upset. She pointed to the puddle that was next to my feet. I looked into the puddle.
It was rainy and cold. I was walking home from work. I had a cake box in my hands and a bag around my arm. It carried fried chicken. It was for my son. It was his third birthday. Fried chicken was his favorite food. Atop the cake box, I had a gift. It was a tiny train set. It was the train set he had been wanting for months, the train set he had been begging for. I could not wait to see the smile on his face. That is all I lived for. I loved him. He made living worth it. However, something did not feel right. It did not matter; I was almost home. I began to cross the street. When I was about halfway across the crosswalk, I turned to face the street. There was only one car on the street. The headlights shined into my eyes. For a second, I saw the man who was driving. He looked drunk and barely conscious. Then, everything went black.
I was dead.
I looked up and looked around. The woman was gone. The gates began to slowly open. I could not hear them. The sound of the bells was too loud. It conquered every other sound and rang in my ears. All I could hear was the sound of the death bells.
I was dead.
