Friends and family gathered to mourn the death of a loved one. And as much as I tried to understand who it was, I ended up without answers. Somehow it was someone I knew, and now he was dead. The cause of death: gunned down. I entered the small room behind everyone else and sat down on the wooden bench.
“You should turn off your phone so that it won’t interrupt you during our prayer session.”
You’re right. I took out my phone and turned it off. The screen went from fully lit to just a small glimpse of light, just like everything else in this world. Well, not everything, but all that once had life within. It all ends as a small long fractal light scurrying to the center of what powers it, something like the soul. And that last second of life ends with one short, small dot of light. Like a last hope to remain alive.
I could see on my peripheral the light from the candles flickering on my face, and could hear at a barely audible volume, the sounds of fire crackling as if something was roasting. It must have been him, whoever he was, and burning deep in the fires of hell. My mind wandered about what he could have done to deserve such gruesome death.
He must have killed somebody or lived an infamous life. And now he was in hell, most likely, but it could be possible that he might have somehow redeemed himself. For some reason I kept thinking of Robin Williams’s movie What dreams May Come. I kept thinking that it could be possible for someone to become ethereal and bring a person’s soul back.Anything seemed possible.
The family dog jumped on my lap and reached in to lick the right side of my face. I stopped him and pushed him down.
No, get down.
What? Did he just say something?
“You know he’s not coming back ever again. He’s never getting out of where he is…burning,” the dog spoke.
I got confused. There must be something wrong here, am I dreaming? It can’t be, this is surreal! But I complied and entertained the situation.
Even if he did kill someone, if he atones for his sins he will be forgiven.
“Well yeah, that’s true. But we both know it’s already too late.” As it kept speaking it kept trying to get near my face to lick me, but I kept pushing him back.
I guess you’re right.
It looked straight into my eyes and told me, “You’re ugly,” to which I quickly responded. And so are you. And even if it were true that you were once beautiful angel, to us you guys are ugly because were human. We’re just different. And now you’re freaking ugly and deformed; even your brothers think so.
“That anecdote of the beauty and the beast bores me. It’s been used for so long that it does nothing to me.”
“We’re going home already. Come on let’s go,” my mother told me. Somehow during my conversation with what channeled through the dog was all inside my head, for they had not known we were conversing.
Hold on, I’m talking to the dog. They stopped, confused right in their tracks, thinking as to what I meant. I could see it in their faces, somehow they knew I was talking to something, but they didn’t know if it was the deceased or something else. So they waited for me outside.
You know, if you were human I could be your friend.
“I’m never going to change,” his voice began to crackle and sound distorted. I pushed him down and got up. I have to go. It kept speaking but by then everything was just incoherent phrases that my mind wasn’t completely registering. Everything sounded like a radio with poor reception going on in the cycles of a washer: just a swirl of insanity.