Short Story: Run For The Heavens
There’s no place better to spend spring break than at home on the beach. Here, every day is like the very first day of summer. Children and their fathers fly rainbow kites in the gentle wind. Young people and old people alike build lumpy sandcastles on shore. Girls around my age lay to bake in tiny bikinis, or at times, nothing at all. The sun gleams upon the sand, warming it like hot grits beneath my bare feet, while the white-crested waves routinely clean the rocks between my toes. The sounds of seagulls and noisy speedboats crowd my ears. It’s complete chaos at this time of year, but I’m nearly used to it.
My friend Andrew and I were having dinner at the diner down the road, lit with neon lights and cheap lamps with torn shades. Everyone seemed so happy to dig into their fish and chips, and have a good time. The waitress nearly spilled her completely full tray on me, but caught her balance and continued her diner-dash. I could hear little bits of laughter and conversation around me at times. Other times I could only concentrate on the clinking of the silver spoon against the sides of my coffee mug. Andrew was telling me about some girl he’d been with earlier that day, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t. My heart was racing. I slapped a 20 on the table.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said, excusing myself from the table.
“Jack I don—”
I didn’t let him finish. I ran outside into the darkness breathing in the salty air without a care. Not a sound was heard but the ocean waves and for a split second at a time, the roar of a car passing by on the road. The gawking sound of Andrew singing the same song playing in the café was also present, but I tried to block that out of my mind. I kept running, and Andrew didn’t chase me. He couldn’t tell there was anything wrong. I almost hated that he would have to see this, or anyone, but for the first time, I didn’t feel scared anymore.
“What? Jack…” He trailed off, his voice filled with panic. “What are you doing? Stop!” Andrew cried out to me, but it was far too late. I saw two blinding beams of light, speeding my way. I stepped into the middle of the road, and in a split second, my life was over.
When I first arrived at my final destination, the light was as bright as the sun, on the family beach I called home. Only here, the light didn’t burn my eyes. I’d assume it’s because my eyes aren’t really even eyes at all; just some sort of eye replica, for the purpose of being physically invincible. I reached into my pocket and found my sunglasses anyway, just in case my eyes were receiving some painless damage.
I’m now floating through heaven, and I just want to make it through the afterlife for the next million or so years I’m here. Maybe I’ll be back on earth in some period of time, if reincarnation actually exists. God and his associates haven’t really shared all the details with me. I didn’t really speak to him when I reached the top of the stairway. I was intimidated, just a little though. . Probably because when I was on earth, I never spoke to him much in the first place making the moment we met, sufficiently awkward.
I had a hard time seeing how this one guy, who nobody is really sure exists, could run the world like that. How stupid would it be, for the majority of the population (the believers), to die and see that nothing else exists beyond our blood and flesh? A small part of me has always felt this way, but I didn’t want to disappoint God. I wanted him to be fond of me. I wanted to reserve my spot in heaven, just in case it was there, so I trusted him. I trusted that my family, the bible, and the entire Christian population would not lie to me. It’s all true. Just the way I hoped it would be.
As I lay here on the greenest fields, I can look down see my brother and sister lying on the couch, just as clearly as I could back down on earth. My sister is in a fit of tears, and my brother is mourning in silence. He flew all the way from New York this weekend for Easter to see the family. He’s a writer, disgracing the family with a job that will barely ever pay the bills, something my parents have complained about for the past six years he’s been out of high school, with not a single one spent in college, but none of that matters to them right now. Could my sister be crying for me? I would hope not. I wish I could go back down there and tell her that it’s okay. I’m okay. I’ve ended up in a better place. I can achieve anything I want in my future… as long as it doesn’t involve life on earth.
This week is super busy, so this a short story I wrote for English class. See you in two days.