Fate is Not a Good Thing

Chapter 1 My New After Life

My eyes opened. There was a ceiling with one bright, white, light bulb. I looked around me, as I lie in this old bed. A blank white blanket covered my body and the dark brown bed frame was the only thing in this room that looked in good condition. The bookshelves were dusty and cracked. The wooden table had scratch marks. It looked like somebody was slicing it with a knife, but I also saw some claw marks. It looked they belonged to a cat, and some thick bear claw marks here and there. This was not my room. How did I get here?

I thought about what led up to this moment. My memory was foggy.

What was it?

Oh, I realized something. I was supposed to be dead.

There was some guy, I can't remember what he looked like. He stabbed me once in the stomach and then the final stab to the chest. I fell to the ground with the knife still in my chest. It only took a few minutes for me to die. He ran away, that little punk. If I ever saw that guy again, this time it would be a knife in his chest.

"Come to the office right now." The male voice that gave me that command was calm but authoritative.

I didn't have any plans for today, so I followed the command. I opened the dark green and brown door. The hallway was old and dusty. Usually I was supposed to sneeze with all this visible dust floating through the air, but I was fine. This looked like something from a World War II movie. What was this place?

"There is no time to waste. Come to the office."

At the end of the hallway was a white door. It was closed but the light emanating within it was powerful. It was able to be seen a mile away. The golden light underneath the door was my guide. I walked towards the light. The first few steps took me a long time, I hesitated frequently. But eventually I had to keep going towards it. My brain told me I had to go to that office.

I put my hand on the light brown door knob and opened the door with anxiety and curiosity. The light was blinding. I closed my eyes and when they opened again I saw a man using a black typewriter. He had a pair of gold glasses and a red suit. His dark brown hair resembled the color of the coffee on his desk.

"Take a seat." He took a sip from his white mug of coffee.

There was only one black chair for me to use. I sat in front of whoever this was.

"You have many questions. I will answer them one at a time."

"Where am I?"

"You are dead. Or you were. This is the afterlife." His accent, what was it. It wasn't British. What did we call this, it was...Mid Atlantic something like that.

"There's an afterlife?"

"Jerry Stevens. You were murdered on July 2, 2026 Current Era at 2 PM in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, the United States of America. One stab to the stomach and one to the chest killed you. Now it is July 3, 2026 on Earth. Your funeral is being planned by your parents as we are speaking."

"That sounds exactly like the last thing I remembered. What was that room?"

"It is your new home."

"And where is this?"

"There are many names for this place. I just call it the after life. But many humans who come here would call it the Office of Souls."

"Is this in the universe? Somewhere on Earth? In the Milky Way Galaxy?"

"This is located in Phoenix, Arizona?"

"Really?" Out of all places, Phoenix?

"I'm joking."

"Oh come on." This guy was screwing with me, I can't believe this guy.

"Well. Even spirits have a sense off humor. The truth is this office is located in a different universe. The physical universe, where your human body was, is different from this one."

"Why do I still have this body?" I lifted my white shirt to see if there were the stab wounds. They were gone thankfully. But I was unhappy to be here.

"You have this body because it represents you. If you want to change your appearance you can talk to the Appearance Department."

"I'm so lost! What is this office? What is this place? Am I going to Heaven or Hell? I hope I'm not going to Hell. It's hot there. Hitler and Stalin are there. I don't want to be there."

"Don't worry. This Office is your new job."

"I have an office job? That's already Hell! Who is my boss? God?" This mysterious guy looked at me with piercing eyes. It looked like something I said offended him. "Well in any case. Explain to me like I'm five years old. Explain in the simplest terms."

He had a very loud sigh. He pulled his drawers and pulled out a plethora of socks. He put a sock that (poorly) resembled me on his right hand. And he put a sock that resembled him on his left. "Hey everyone this is the After Life show. You died." The sock version of me collapsed to the desk. "But my Boss gave you a second chance by bringing you to me."

"Who is your Boss?" He looked at me with eyes of anger. "Okay just keep explaining."

"So here we are. You are given this new job. It's much better than other jobs. If you were in Hell digging in the coal mines, you would be begging for this position."

"And what is it?"

"You are here to decide the fates of living things. You decide when they will die. You can also change other things. Here is your first assignment as a test." He took off the sock puppets and swung the typewriter to my position.

"I never used a typewriter."

He let out a big sigh. "Fine." He snapped his fingers and the typewriter became an old laptop.

On my screen it had a photo of an old white guy who looked angry. The description read, "Willy White. Age 83. Doesn't have any friends. Divorced six times. Hates everyone and everything." The description was long, it had twenty pages of the most significant parts of his life story, but I wasn't reading all that.

On the final page, the screen gave me a light blue blank paragraph. I clicked on it and the man in front of me told me I had the freedom to write about his fate, but I had to follow the rules. In big bold letters the screen told me to decide if he should live or die right now. And I was not allowed to interfere with the supernatural. As an example I was not allowed to give him the supernatural ability to breathe fire or fly.

Well this was easy. I typed in, "Dies from a heart attack."

The man sitting at his desk turned on his flat screen TV and the news played. The woman reading the teleprompter announced Willy White died an hour ago from a heart attack. She described him as a man without any friends and his children and grandchildren were not bothering to give him a funeral. Sheesh. How bad was this guy?

My guide told me, "Your first assignment is done. You didn't take too long, that is good. Just for you to keep in mind, time works differently here. We live in the past, present, and future all at once."

"What?" I asked. "I don't get it."

"You probably never will. Good work on your first assignment. But keep in mind. What you do is permanent. Willy White is now dead. Without your intervention, he could have lived until one hundred. And you also did not write a different outcome for his fate."

"What do you mean? The guy was an asshole. It was amazing he lived this long."

"Yes, but you completely ruled out the possibility that he could have changed. You could have wrote in his fate an event that could have changed him for the better. You could have included he met someone who loved him despite his negative character. But you didn't."

Was I getting lectured? This was my job. This guy told me I had complete freedom. "Yeah, but this is my job now. You said I could do whatever I wanted."

"Yes. But what you do is permanent. It will only get more difficult and complicated from here. Your decisions are important. Life changing. You should get some sleep."

"But I'm not in the physical universe anymore. I don't need sleep."

"You should get some sleep."

I opened my eyes and saw the ceiling. I was in the same room from yesterday.

"Come to the office right now Mr. Stevens."