Beckoning Light

Not all goes as planned

 

Beckoning Light

 

He was supposed to pick her up in thirty minutes. He was supposed to give her the ring in an hour. He was supposed to have dinner reservations at a very nice restaurant tonight.

 

None of that happened. Instead, he is watching as his body is removed from his car, or should it be said, pieces of his body being removed from what is left of his car. The pain lives on, and he cries in agony as the nerves still send their signals to what part of his brain that is left can understand them.

 

In terror, the realization slowly washes over him. He is dead. Something went terribly wrong on the way to his fiancée's apartment. Lights, bright lights bearing down on him, the dull thud of the impact, the tinkling sound of thousands of particles of broken glass, the screaming of the tires protesting their mistreatment and his own inward scream of pain as his body became dismembered in the horrific crash.

 

Still he watches in fascination at the skill and respect his body is shown. The rescue workers slowly and methodically record every bit of his body, carefully place it in the bag and shield it from onlookers. They knew him not, and yet they so gently removed each piece of him from the wreckage. He felt a tear flow down his cheek, the cheek of his new face, the face on a new body, a body wanting to go to a new home.

 

And still he is forced to wait as the rescuers continue their work. Why is this taking so long? The light is the portal to his new home, and he is not allowed to cross, no, no, not yet.

 

He tries to scream for someone to guide him, yet he feels he knows the way. He has to stay, but for what reason? Maybe he has to see her once again. Maybe she has to know he isn't coming. How can he bear to watch this painful sight, and still, who else has to know that he is no longer of this earth?

 

That's not the answer. No one tells him, but he knows this is so. Now feeling no pain, he knows his brain in now gone, and physically feels the first tear flow down the face of a new body, a body ready for a new home, and a new home hidden behind a beckoning light, yet no path to the light except through a tunnel of darkness.

 

Fear grips him as he enters, wanting to scream out in fear as countless eyes watch his entry. I'm okay, this is my destiny. I am supposed to be here, in this tunnel, and I am supposed to travel to that light.

 

One last scream for help falls upon deaf ears, and he takes another step. Each step becoming easier as he journeys the tunnel, looking for that light at the end. Brighter, and yet brighter still it grows, yet not blinding as he closes the space.

 

It is here, in this light that you will now live forever. He knows this is so, and with some fear he starts to enter. Taking one last look to his old body, now dead and destroyed, he casts it aside and steps across.

Reviews

[Forest Green]

Good work, George...dealing with the horror and mystery of sudden, painful death.

You tread respectfully on the ground there and I found your work very worthwhile and thought provoking.

Thank you for the send.

Daniel

[Yaooooooo]

Very well written..
Keep up the good wrok and feel free to send me a request...
Thanks for sharing,
One!