I'm Sorry I Died

I once read in a book that there would be this giant golden gate and this giant golden podium and this giant golden book of people who are permitted to enter heaven.

I don't know if I'm dreaming or what, but right now, I'm in front of the gate to heaven. I'm not kidding; I really am.

"Hmm, let's see," a deep, authoritative voice said from the parting clouds. I spun around, only to find myself alone in a cloudy place. Kind of like being up high in the mountains with all the fog around you. "Alec Virgil Stone."

"Am I dead?" I asked bluntly. I mean, I am supposed to know, right? "I feel light. It's like I don't have a body or something. Even my fingers are transparent."

The voice laughed. "You wouldn't be here if you weren't."

He had a point.

"Ah, yes, Alec," he continued. "It's not yet your time, dear boy."

"What do you mean it's not―"

And poof!

I was falling.

Fast.

From the sky.

And to the ground.

It was so fast I didn't even have time to scream my lungs out.