"But it's nice to be numb sometimes. It's nice to make the pain go away... but it's so different when you can't feel things and I can't even DESCRIBE how different it is. This morning," he continued, "I... I came to the conclusion that I DO like some things about myself... and I still feel the same now, it's just that I don't notice the things that I don't like as much."
"What was it that you liked?"
"Trust," he answered. "That's why I asked you about it. I trust you and you trust me. I like that."
She caught a little smile on his face and smiled back at him, glad that he was taking his medicine. Without warning, she threw he arms around him and gave him a hug. "Everything's going to be all right. I can feel it."
She could feel it... she'd said so, but he couldn't. It scared him that JC wasn't around. He seemed so far away, and there was even a point in the day when Justin thought that either he'd been crazy, or that JC would never be coming back. They'd shorted his time frame... time was up and the game was over.
The thing was, that it wasn't a game. It was nonexistence verses living flesh and the stakes were as high as they could get.
He pulled on Becca's hand and they stood up. "I hope you're right," he told her. "I REALLY hope you're right. I pray every day, every SECOND that you are."
The air and the buzzing of the crowd around him once again filled his thoughts and a relaxed feeling flushed through his veins. He smiled at Becca, not even realizing that his whole existence... his whole life's purpose had been changed drastically.
By nine o'clock that night, all Justin wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep all Saturday night and till noon the next day. His eyes were dry and stinging, but he couldn't cry. He didn't want to cry and he didn't feel like it either.
After trudging up to his room, kicking off his shoes and crawling into bed, he heard a knock on his door.
"Justin?" Becca's voice come softly through the wood. "I thought I heard you come up the stairs. Are you in there?"
He saw the doorknob turn and then the door squeaked open. Their eyes met.
"Are you okay?" she asked him for about the tenth time that day.
"Are you really that worried about me?" he asked, clutching his pillow tightly until his knuckles turned white.
She sat on the edge of his bed just looking at him. "Seriously, Justin, if something's going on that I don't know about, or if something's bothering you, please don't keep it to yourself... I want to know so that I can help you."
Tiny tears appeared at the corners of his eyes, but when he turned his head away from her, they seemed to have disappeared. She scooted closer, drawing and imaginary line from the side of his face to his chin, forcing him to look at her. He blinked and the tears ran down his face.
"What is it?" she asked in a whisper as she brushed his tears away. "You can tell me anything and I promise that I won't laugh or judge you. Remember when we were talking about trust and honesty? That still stands... doesn't it?"
"Trust me, Becca, when I say that I'm being completely honest with you... I can't tell you about this yet. I'll tell you in a month, okay? I promise. It's just one of those things that won't make sense until after..." he stopped. They were going to accomplish it... weren't they? "Until... well, I'll just tell you about it in a month."
Becca gave him a kiss on his cheek and then stood up, trying to understand what all his rambling meant. She pulled his blankest closer to his chin and then squeezed his hand. "Go to sleep, Justin. I'm getting up early tomorrow morning for church and if you want to come with, then you'll have to be up early too."
He nodded, his eyes following her to the door. "Night..." he whispered.
"Good night."
The door softly clicked shut and Justin let out his breath. His head was starting to throb and before he knew it, a horrible headache had captured him. He thought of what would have caused it, but he came up empty handed. He wanted to take some ibuprofen, but then remembered that he wasn't supposed to take anything else while he was on the medication.
Then it hit him. The medication was what was giving him a headache... or LACK of it. It was probably wearing off. Maybe if he would close his eyes and go to sleep, it would be gone by the time he woke up.
"Justin," a voice whispered the second he closed his eyes. "Justin, I know you're not sleeping. Open your eyes."
He squeezed his eyelids tighter, wishing that the voice would go away. He knew it was JC, but he didn't feel like talking to him.
"Come on, Justin, you've been ignoring me all day!"
That caught his attention and he opened his eyes. "What? I haven't been ignoring you all day... you just weren't around! I looked for you, but couldn't find you!"
"That's crazy! I've been with you the whole time and you didn't-" he stopped, his eyes widening as he looked straight at Justin. "I know what's going on... they're cutting us off, those bastards!"
"Don't swear!" Justin scolded. "Do you really think it's wise to test them right now? What if they can hear you?"
"Who cares? I'm already screwed."
"We can DO this!"
"How are we supposed to work together when you can't even see me half the time? It's not fair!"
"Life's not fair," Justin put in.
"Only, I'm not alive."
"Well, I guess death isn't fair either."
"I don't know..." JC mumbled as he looked off. "As much as I love Becca and the baby, as much as I want to be there for them, how was taking this chance the right thing to do? Becca wants me in heaven, I know that... she wouldn't want me to wander the Earth for the rest of eternity."
"It's the same thing with me. No matter how much I want you back, I wouldn't risk your chance to get into heaven. From what I've learned since your death, life is short... life is a test. We don't really live until we die."
JC stared at Justin in shock. He'd never thought of it that way before. "A test?" He thought about it. "Life is a test and death is real life... When you put it that way, it makes me feel like shit! I've gambled BIG time, Justin, and now I'm about to lose."
"I'm sorry... but..."
"You're right, though," JC game a sad chuckle. "Death IS life. I've messed with life, and I've screwed with death and now I'm through."
"Hang on, JC, I mean you can't blame this all on yourself. THEY'RE the ones who gave you the option!"
JC gulped. "That must have been my final test... and I failed it."
"Not yet! We can do this!"
JC wasn't listening to him. "What kind of a guy chooses Earth over heaven?"
"The kind of guy who loves his family."
"You're not supposed to love anybody more than you love God."
"But you saw God in THEM, and I KNOW you realized it... that's the same thing, JC. I've got a feeling that these people are just screwing with you. they're not connected to heave at all! They're con-artists of the afterlife and it's not logical that they're real." He paused. "Have you ever seen Beetlejuice?"
"I've SEEN Beetlejuice and it's not like that at all. Trust me. This Mike guy looks holier than holy."
"Maybe that's all part of the act. He got to you before you found the pearly gates and he got you all mixed up. And if he didn't look holy, you'd be suspicious. It's all part of the act.
"Yeah... professional con-artist."
JC had no idea where to find the pearly gates or how to get to them, but that night, while Justin slept, he was determined to find out. It was almost entirely unimaginable to think about where he'd start looking.
Mike. Mike was his direct link to the afterlife. The question was... which one? He decided to go back to the place where he'd been killed and ask for other guidance. Who knew who... or what would be out there listening... or overhearing his plea? But he had to take that chance.
So, there he stood, in the middle of the road, looking out onto the cold, dark streets and trying to think of the right words to say.
"I need some help," he said quietly. "I need to talk to someone who can give me some answers..."
He felt his energy draining, and he knew he was being moved. He squeezed his eyes shut and prayed that he wouldn't end up in that stupid, white chair, in the stupid, white room and staring at Mike's stupid, white face.
"Well, Well," he heard a voice say. "What do we have here?"
JC opened his eyes and looked around. Three men were in front of him; one in a big oak chair and the other two standing on either side of him. Everything was navy blue from the huge pillars extending from the floor to the ceiling, right down to the men's clothing. "Where am I?" JC wanted to know.
"That doesn't matter," the man in the middle replied, looking at JC with dark, brown eyes. "I heard you asking for help. Something about a question?"
The two men on either side of his chair were staring at JC eerily. One of them cleared his throat. "I believe he said that he needed some help and he wanted to talk to someone who could give him some answers, sir."
JC got the feeling that he'd fallen into the wrong place... but he was too scared to say anything.
The man in the middle nodded. "Thanks, Oliver." He shifted in his chair, turning to JC. "What's your name?"
JC wasn't sure if he wanted to tell him. "Um..." he said. "I think I'm in the wrong place..." He began backing up, but the man held out his hand and all of a sudden, JC couldn't move.
"Just hold it for one second there, young man... Once you're here, you must obey MY orders and the first one is that I decide where and when you can go. Now, what's your question?"
"I... I... I just wanted to know how to..." he stuttered along. These guys didn't seem very trustworthy. "I wanted to get in touch with heaven."
Oliver and the other man, who had been so stern before, exchanged glances and then burst out in laughter while the man in the oak chair narrowed his eyes. As soon as the laughter died down, he set his gaze back on JC.
"Heaven?" he said. "This isn't heaven... how long has it been since you've passed on?"
"Um... two months."
He looked at Oliver. "He's still on Earth time."
"Who are you?"
"My name is Terrance and I'm..." he smiled at JC. "Your friend. Yeah... that's a good word for it." He seemed pleased with himself. "Now what's REALLY your problem? And don't give me any of this 'I can't get into heaven' shit."
JC would have been shaking... if he could move. He DEFINITELY was in the wrong place. "I was given a choice," he said. "Some guy, named Mike, gave me a choice and..."
"You chose the wrong one. Believe it or not, I get at least five spirits in here everyday asking the same damn question... over and over..." He stopped for a second and fingered the small beard at the end of his chin. "Mike... Mike, the little blonde guy with a big book that he never lets out of his sight? Are we talking about the same Mike, here?"
"How'd you..."
"Know? I've been hanging around here for way too long and by now, I know almost everyone. Except the new arrivals like yourself, of course."
"This Mike guy," JC started. "Is he legitimate?"
Terrance almost laughed. "Mike THINKS he's legitimate. The truth is, he's psycho. I sure as HELL wouldn't trust MY afterlife in his hands."
"What's in his book?"
"Well, what Mike does is steals information from other guides when they're not looking, then he intercepts their clients. He's been known to get spirits into trouble. I'd watch out for him, if I were you."
"How do I find my real guide? Are YOU a guide?"
Terrance chuckled. "I'm not a guide, that's for sure, but I'm not sure how you would go about finding your original guide. You see... Mike has your information, obviously, so even if you do find another guide, he wouldn't know what to do. He won't know anything about you."
"Isn't there a way to stop him? What he's doing has got to be against the rules in some way."
"I think God feels sorry for him. He IS insane, after all."
"What is it that YOU do?"
"What do I do? I deal with those who after being evaluated, don't... how could I say it in a way you'd understand... those who don't get into heaven. People like... you."
"Me!?"
"What exactly did you do?"
"What do you mean? Before I died, or after?"
"Before. Why can't you get into heaven?"
"I grew up, graduated from high school, college, got married, found out my wife was pregnant and... here I am. Mike gave me options. ONE of them was going to heaven. The other was to go back."
Terrance raised an eyebrow. "Back WHERE?"
"To EARTH. Where else?"
"I'm sorry... what was your name?"
"JC."
"I'm sorry, JC, but you can't go back to Earth. Mike is full of shit. Once you're dead, you're dead."
"Who am I supposed to trust? Everyone keeps telling me different things! And if I can't go back to Earth, how do I get to heaven?"
Terrance held out his hand to Oliver who deposited a slip of paper into it. He took a pen out of his pocket and wrote something on it. "Here. Take this to the gates and tell them that you've been given permission by me to be reevaluated." He handed the paper to JC.
"But... where are the gates?"
"Good luck.
Suddenly, it was as if a big gust of wind blew through his entire being and for a second, his sight lapsed. He blinked until it came back.
Justin sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. He shivered, realizing that he'd left the window open the night before. After getting up and shutting it, he turned around to find JC standing in front of him. "Man, JC," he mumbled, still half asleep. "I had the weirdest dream."
"And I had the weirdest night. You wouldn't believe me if I told you." He shoved the ghostly piece of paper into his pocket before Justin could see it. "And the weirdest part of it is... it's not over yet.
When Justin walked into the kitchen, he saw a glass of water and his pill sitting on the table. Last time he took the pill, he hadn't been able to communicate with JC all day. If he took it again, the same thing was likely to happen...
"I know what you're thinking."
He spun around to face her. "What?"
"And let me ask you something. Do you remember how you felt yesterday?"
He clasped his hands together, noticing that the tingling feeling was gone. He wasn't sure he wanted to feel that anymore.
"We actually had a good time yesterday, didn't we?"
"I don't need to be drugged up to have a good time," he said in a defensive tone. "I'm me and you had better get used to it!"
There were tears in his eyes again, and she could tell that he was trying his hardest not to let them fall. "That's not what I meant, Justin," she told him. "You misunderstood." She took a step closer to him, but he took a step back. "What I'm trying to say is that you didn't feel as sad after you took your medicine. Right?"
By then, he had backed up until he was pressed against the dishwasher. "You don't know how I feel," he whimpered, losing the battle to his growing teardrops.
She made her way over to him and grabbed his wrists. He tried to pull away. "Justin, stop this," she said in a calm voice. "I'm on your side, honey. Just calm down for a little bit."
"You don't know how it made me feel," he muttered, turning his head away from her. "And I'm NOT taking them again."
She pulled him in for a hug, sighing as he cried. There had to be something besides JC's death that was making him act so distressed. Maybe JC's death had triggered it? She wasn't sure... but what WAS for sure was that he needed help... and she didn't know if she could give it to him.
Chapter 18
Almost A Memory Now
JC {Fiction}
Justin {Fiction}
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I'll Never Stop {Fiction}
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