The World Inside My Head

Have you ever wondered what happens when a soul passes on? Where does that essence go? Does it drift off into dreamland, to never be seen again? Or does it go on to heaven, hell or limbo? I have the all of the answers, I am God after all. Let me explain. Souls who do not move on stay in a limbo state, only it is not called that. It is called the Never-ending Expanse. Does that sound strange to you? Well it is just the way things are. Now there is a heaven and a hell. The way a soul gets into one or the other depends on the weight of their soul. What did you expect the typical answer, the good go to heaven and the bad go to hell? I’m sorry but life is not that black and white. There are a million shades of grey and trust me judging a soul can get darn right confusing. But with great power comes great responsibility.

Today I will be telling you about the Never-ending Expanse. It can be a scary place, considering it is based solely on one’s interpretation of the place. Yes I know it sounds daunting, but there are ways to move on. Most of the souls who are trapped in the Never-ending Expanse don’t WANT to move on, however. They are usually pessimists that have baggage and this blinds them from seeing the way out. There is an interesting soul that did manage to make his way to heaven. His name is Peter Reed. Listen up because this is a story of a cynic who defied his destiny. For Peter was meant to live in the Never-ending Expanse.

Peter Reed dropped out of existence on November 28, 1998. Not many people mourned the young man, who was only seventeen when his life was ripped away. That wasn’t the sad part. The sad part was that his parents, who were supposed to love him unconditionally and without reason, didn’t care. Then again when he was alive they hadn’t cared then either. The two of them won the award for being the worst parents on Earth. They never noticed when their son showed up with bruises under his eyes and clothes torn to shreds, nor did they notice that his belongings had been stolen on a daily basis. Peter was constantly getting into fights, but none of them were ever actually his fault. People sought him out, laughing at him and ridiculing him every chance they got. He didn’t know why people bullied him, why they laughed and stole his things. That is until he found out that people were jealous. Not of him per se, but of what his father used to be.

His father used to be a famous actor. He had gotten pretty big, but when he found Peter’s mom he quit the business and became a Real Estate Agent. That way he could be closer to his wife and soon to be born child. However, due to problems unbeknownst to Peter, his parents became overwhelmed with their jobs and forgot about their one and only son. They were constantly in and out of the house and when Peter was younger babysitters would come and go at the same rapid pace. The bullies wanted what Peter had, or at least they thought they did. They didn’t know the constant turmoil he was in day in and day out. When they stole his iPod, that he had worked so hard to buy, his world began to come undone. The bullies had stolen other things, but the iPod was by far his most cherished. He loved music; it was his escape from this wretched world he lived in. He would listen to the lyrics of the songs and slowly the ache in his heart would dull. Without it, Peter became more withdrawn.

He was walking down a street when it happened. His death. Had he been paying more attention he would have noticed that the light had not turned green, it was red as blood. Peter walked with a slump, his head watching the ground, as if fascinated with it. He heard a screech and he quickly looked up, but it was too late. The car was too close and before he could even move out of the way, his body flew into the air. When it finally soared back down, he was dead.
The driver of the car ran out, screaming and apologizing, that it had been a mistake. He had been walking in the street, oblivious. That didn’t bring Peter back though. Nothing would.
Peter’s soul rose up, a white blob tethered to his body for a moment before being cut loose and soaring above. Peter’s soul rose up in the air quickly, like a hot air balloon, and in the blink of a moment dissipated.

Peter’s soul emerged in the Never-ending Expanse. Since he was such a troubled teen, with many problems left to be resolved, he ended up there. Peter wasn’t in his human form. Rather he was in a rabbit’s skin and the worst part about this was he could not communicate to others. He was in a waiting room area, where several souls waited to move on to the next phase of their lives. Peter was in a pickle, he didn’t know where he was, or what he needed to do. All he knew was he had died. He gulped and instinctively hopped around, as any rabbit would. Several souls stared at him, wondering what a rabbit was doing here. After a while, they stopped staring and went about their business. Peter kept pacing, he didn’t know what was going on. Was he in hell? Heaven wouldn’t be this agonizing. He thumped one leg against the ground, trying to figure out what was going on. No one would tell him though. They all appeared as if they knew what they were doing.
Peter’s eyes began to droop. How can a ghost become tired you say? Why it’s rather simple. Energy from Peter’s body had been slowly leaking out and since he didn’t know a way to get more of it, he became sleepy. It is similar to how humans lose energy.

When Peter awoke he was in a cage. He moved around frantically, his heart beating wildly. Where had the waiting room gone, he thought with a start. Why was he in a cage? The thoughts ran across his mind in disorder, bumping into one another and becoming jumbled up. A woman walked into the empty room, save for Peter in the cage. She had an eerie look about her. Peter didn’t want to get on her bad side that was for sure. He didn’t know why he had such a bad feeling about her.
The woman leaned down and got on Peter’s eye level. She smirked.

“Yes you are definitely the cure to ending this bane of an existence we call the Never-ending Expanse.”

What was she talking about? He wasn’t a cure to anything. He was more like a cancer. This woman had to be mistaken. The woman unlocked Peter’s cage and he hopped out, oblivious. She pulled a syringe out of her pocket and Peter knew something was very wrong. Her hand neared his body and he leapt away, darting out of the room.

“Come back here!” The woman cursed.

Peter ran, never looking back, but he heard the woman’s advancing steps. What was he supposed to do? He was a rabbit! Rabbits were cute and fluffy, but warriors they were not. He needed to be in a different form, but how? Was that even possible? Peter panicked as he heard the footsteps eerily close now. He had to do something or he was a goner! What could he do though? As he kept running, he knew his life would end forever if he was caught. His essence would be extinguished like a light and he knew it.

Peter closed his eyes then and thought about a time when he had done something impossible. He remembered the time when he had won a contest for the best written song online. The chances of him winning were low, and yet he had won. There were a million people, just like him, hoping for their chance to win the $5,000 dollars. He had written a song about death and embracing it. Now that he thought about it, it was ironic. Perhaps some part of his subconscious knew he would need this memory to survive.

When he opened his eyes he saw the woman’s eyes widen and her body erupt in quivers. “What’s wrong?” He asked, his voice human.

The woman shook and ran away. Peter frowned, catching a glimpse of himself in a nearby mirror. He was an angel of death. Peter was astonished. How had he managed to shuck the rabbit skin and assume this one? He didn’t know it then, but he was strong, stronger than he ever imagined. He had will power that would outmatch even the most stubborn person. He also had a vivid imagination, and in the end that was what had truly saved him. The only problem now was he had no idea where he was or how to get back to that waiting room. He also needed to assume his human form. He didn’t want to scare anyone else. Closing his eyes and concentrating, he morphed and immediately noticed the change. He walked up to the mirror, lying on its side and his fingers brushed its surface. That is until they sunk into it like butter. He frowned and tried to pull his hand out. It stayed firmly rooted though. He shrugged and let his body enter the mirror fully. When he emerged he was in the waiting room. Gaping, Peter glanced around and saw that he was indeed back. He let out a sigh and walked up to one of the windows.

“Yes?” An elderly woman asked as soon as he appeared.

“I’m here to tell you that I belong in heaven,” he said.

The woman examined him, her eyes taking in his form. She nodded, she could tell he had gone through his trial and won. No one had managed to do that since Vladimir, but that was a story for another time.

“Go on,” she said and a door opened for him. He walked through and finally his weary soul moved on.

Not all trials in the Never-ending Expanse have to do with the soul’s past on their planet. No, in fact it is more common for souls to go through trials that come from deep within. Peter’s trial wasn’t as clear cut as you think. His trial was actually a trial of wills. He had been bullied so much in his life that his will had nearly deteriorated. His baggage was that he would always fail when it counted most and that he would ultimately fail himself. Peter proved that he could succeed and with flair. He had done the unthinkable; he had passed a trial that others had failed countless times. Peter had never been ordinary, but he had thought that even at the moment of his death. In the end, Peter had proved he was strong enough to triumph when it counted the most. That was all he sought, recognition from himself, that he was powerful enough to defeat his tormentors.