If I believed in Heaven

              Annalise stared at the limp body lying on the ground at her feet. An onlooker would say that she looked rather like a small child. One who had just broken their favorite toy, and could not comprehend what had just happened. The desolate woman jerked and looked up with a slight vacant expression on her face. She couldn't see anything but the body in the dense fog that surrounded her. Which was strange, she seemed to have some strange memory of blazing sun, parched earth and wide open spaces. Annalise did not like small spaces in the least, and the dense fog was starting to aggravate her claustrophobia. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, Annalise tried to move, and found she couldn't. A small twitch caught her eye. She breathed in again, and again the body twitched in response. Looking closely Annalise could see resemblances between her and the body; the same short and messy black hair, the same green eyes and the same small, delicate nose that she had always been so self-conscious of. She snorted in disbelief, she didn't have any female relatives in the area, and she certainly wasn't dead, because that's clearly what the body was. Haughty and aloof she turned her back on the corpse in contempt and went back to studying the fog. It wasn't long, however, before she started to peek at it out of the corner of her eye. Slowly she floated back to hover over the body. Then it hit her, humans can't hover. She peered at the face. Yup, it was hers and she was most definitely dead. Suddenly a dark head appeared out of the fog. It bent over her old body, crying, screaming in anguish. Curious, Annalise floated down to see who the man was. He was her brother, Dan, who had accompanied her to Darfur to a*sist in the refugee camps. An explosion came out of the fog, and a red spray erupted from Dan's back. Without any further sound he slumped forward onto the body. For a brief instant the fog cleared to reveal an inferno. Tents blazed against a bloody sunset and people ran screaming for their lives across Annalise's limited vision. The Janjaweed who had shot her brother walked up and shot two more rounds into his back. Each shot sent up another plume of blood that quickly evaporated in the heat. Then the fog swallowed her up again. Torn from the real world she choked out a scream of pure agony and loss as she collapsed to her knees. Slowly the world faded and she was completely alone in the fog.

 

              She didn't know how long she cried while drifting through the endless fog. She didn't know how long she had been curled up, alone. There were no recognizable landmarks and she had lost all sense of direction. Slowly she stopped crying, and the sobs that had jerked her body like a marionette began to fade. The dears slowly dried on her face, forming small rivulets down her cheeks. After a while she stilled, and was silent. Soft foot steps could be heard coming through the fog. They sounded like her fathers hard-soled work shoes as he strode down the tiled hallways of the hospital. Click, click, click, they sounded against the ground. She raised her head up, curious, there was no ground here. The fog parted to reveal a young man in a trim green waist coat and pinstripe pants. His long brown hair was restrained in a ponytail and tucked under a small trim hat. One slender hand was shoved in his pants pocket, thumb out. Annalise thought he looked rather like a swing kid from the 20's. When he smiled held out his hand she could see that his teeth were pearly white. His laughing blue eyes were an echo of his smile, and they twinkled in the semi-darkness of the fog. Annalise stretched her hand out towards his, and hesitated, withdrawing her hand slightly. The man smiled and cocked his head slightly, as if to say that she was being silly, her brother used to give her that look. Slightly miffed, Annalise took his hand and let him help her up; his hand was smooth and free from calluses. She dusted off her pants, and stood up straight. In her bare feet Annalise stood a full five foot, nine inches. The man was slightly taller than her, probably about six feet, she guessed. Scrutinizing him from head to foot, she could find no fault, none at all. With a huff she turned and started walking off. After a few feet she realized that he wasn't following. Turning around she saw him standing in the same place, hands in pockets. He grinned and pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. Annalise rolled her eyes and walked back to him. When she reached him, he offered his arm, and together they walked down the long hallway created by the fog.

 

              Eventually they came upon a gate. It was silver, and slightly tarnished, but it glowed in the thick miasma of the fog. A small podium sat in front of the gate, and there was another man seated behind it. His hair was short and blond, but he had the same polished look as the man standing beside her. Glasses were perched on his nose, and he was studying a rather large tome that was placed on the podium in front of him. The brown haired man strolled up and said, "Got another one here for you, Gabby." The blonde looked up from the tome. "Well, well Ms. Dumonde, it's a pleasure to finally meet you," he said as he wrote a note down in the book. "Hm, looks like she's the last. I'll close up for the night then," Gabby announced to the brunette. "Excuse me sir," piped up Annalise. "Is there perhaps a Dan Dumonde on your list?"

              Gabby looked down his nose at her, "Hm," he muttered, "I don't see a Dan Dumonde on here. Nope, he's not dead, yet. Will that be all?"

              "Yes, sir, thank you, sir," Annalise replied. She was thrilled that her brother was still alive. Just managing to choke back tears she followed the brunette through the gates.

              "Right, then let's get this puppy closed up," Gabby said, jumping down from the podium, and grabbing a ring of keys from a shelf under the podium. It was the last thing Annalise heard as she walked through the gates.