Status: Trigger warning?
Yin Yang.
The Waiting Room
I felt sort of like air. I felt light and carefree, happy and content. But that feeling kept tugging at my stomach, trying to tell me something that I was unaware of. It felt kind of like a storm cloud on a wedding day, so to speak.
I looked around the room, searching for some sort of signal as to where I was; it was just an empty room. A white, plain, empty space. I was the only one there.
I looked down at my clothing, surprised to see that I was, in fact, not wearing the clothes I had been before; I was wearing a long white chiffon dress and I was barefoot, which I found kind of odd obviously. I still had no clue where I was.
I ran a hand through my blonde hair, knowing by the feel of it that it wasn't straitened; wasn't it before? I continued running my fingers through the waves, something I usually did when I was in deep thought. I wasn't wearing my clothes anymore, I didn't know where I was, and suddenly my hair was all curly. What?
I heard footsteps and turned my attention towards the direction in which I heard them, expecting to see maybe someone else in the same position as me- wearing all white, no makeup, etc. But it was the exact opposite.
It was a guy who appeared to be about my age, wearing nothing but black all the way around; black Converse, skinny jeans, leather jacket, t-shirt, and black hair. His eyes were a bright shade of gold and his lips were curving into a smirk as he walked towards me.
“Erm- hi.” I said awkwardly. I looked around one more time, as if my surroundings were going to change, before asking the dreaded question. “Uh- where are we exactly? What's going on?”
He stopped in front of me and looked around, a smug smirk now evident as his golden eyes scanned the room. They met my blue and he finally spoke: “You're dead.”
“You're hilarious. Seriously, where are we?”
“You think I'm kidding?” He questioned, clearly amused that I didn't believe him. It's not that I didn't believe him, because I knew; I just didn't want to believe it.
“Yeah, I do.” I studied him for a moment. “Who are you?”
“I've got many names. Thanatos, Ankou, Pesta, Samael, Hades, Anubis, the Grim Reaper,” He paused. “But you'll probably know me as-”
“Death.” I whispered. He nodded.
“Right, that's me. Death. But you can call me any of those other names, I think they're a bit more- appealing than Death.”
“Erm, alright- Anubis.”
We studied one another for a few moments, both of us shocked at each others' appearances- since when was Death sixteen?
“So, uh, not trying to be rude here or anything but since when do you-”
“Look like this?” He motioned towards himself. “Long story short, I'm one of the youngest gods there are in Egyptian and Greek mythology, so I'm basically a child in god standards. As a result I have the personality and appearance of a teenager even though I'm-” He counted off on his fingers. “About two thousand years old.”
I stared at him in awe as he continued looking around the room, his gold eyes showing evident dislike. He acted like it was nothing that he just told me he was two thousand years old.
“I always hated this place. It's so dull and boring.”
I realized he still hadn't answered my question. “So where exactly are we?” I questioned.
“It's sort of like a waiting room for the afterlife, but it's private. Each soul has their own and I occasionally meet with some of them. But most of the time I just let my, erm- my team sort it out.”
Another question immediately shot out of my mouth. “Why did you meet with me?”
“No reason.” He said cooly. “Just found it kinda interesting. Y'know, teenage girl kills herself when she hasn't even experienced life yet.”
“I definitely experienced life and I definitely didn't enjoy it.” I shot back. “I went through hell and I wanted out.”
“Sweetheart, I've been to Hell and let me tell you that what you went through was nothing like it.”
“You don't know anything about me.”
“Oh, but I do. Your name is Storm Marie Alexander, born January 15, 1996 in Paris, France. Your mothers name was Josephine and your father was Mark, y'know, right before he died. You had barely any friends when you moved to the United States and you were constantly pitying yourself, feeling as though your life just wasn't fair because you weren't in Paris anymore with all your other perfect snobby friends. A few days after your sixteenth birthday your dad died of lung cancer and that's when life really started getting you down. You put up a good fight, lasted a few months before the monster that is depression swallowed you whole and you eventually turned your family's garage into a homemade gas chamber. Think I don't know you? Think again Storm.”
I stared at him wide-eyed, my mouth open as I wracked my brain for a clever response. Okay, maybe he did know me. But I never pitied myself.
“Fuck you.” I muttered. He held his hands up in surrender.
“Think I'm being too harsh? I'm Death, I'm not supposed to sugarcoat stuff.”
Our eyes locked once again, the golden embers in his shining bright with wonder and satisfaction. I sighed.
“Sorry. So why am I in a waiting room?”
“You're here because Osiris can't decide what to do with you.”
“How do you know that? You're nothing more than a guide.”
He smirked again. “One hears things. Someone's done their research, eh? Yeah, I am a guide. The one who leads you to the Judgement Hall to have your heart weighed, in the Egyptian sense. Throughout this entire journey we'll be seeing and speaking through the Egyptian point of view, since that is what you believe in. Correct?”
I had done my research on multiple different religions and came to the conclusion that I believed in the many gods of Egypt and worshiped them as someone who had been raised on the religion. It sounds stupid but we're all different, correct?
“Correct.” I said.
“Lovely. See, Heaven and Hell, or in this case, Heaven and the Duat, are seen differently by everyone depending on their religion. For example, if you were Christian you would see Osiris as God and Heaven completely different. I'm seen differently by each person when I'm not in human form. So if I weren't in human form right now you would see my body with the head of a jackyl, whilst most would see me as a skeleton wearing a cloak and carrying a scythe. Got it?”
I nodded although I was still completely confused. He smiled that devious grin of his again before he spoke.
“So lets begin our journey, shall we?”
I looked around the room, searching for some sort of signal as to where I was; it was just an empty room. A white, plain, empty space. I was the only one there.
I looked down at my clothing, surprised to see that I was, in fact, not wearing the clothes I had been before; I was wearing a long white chiffon dress and I was barefoot, which I found kind of odd obviously. I still had no clue where I was.
I ran a hand through my blonde hair, knowing by the feel of it that it wasn't straitened; wasn't it before? I continued running my fingers through the waves, something I usually did when I was in deep thought. I wasn't wearing my clothes anymore, I didn't know where I was, and suddenly my hair was all curly. What?
I heard footsteps and turned my attention towards the direction in which I heard them, expecting to see maybe someone else in the same position as me- wearing all white, no makeup, etc. But it was the exact opposite.
It was a guy who appeared to be about my age, wearing nothing but black all the way around; black Converse, skinny jeans, leather jacket, t-shirt, and black hair. His eyes were a bright shade of gold and his lips were curving into a smirk as he walked towards me.
“Erm- hi.” I said awkwardly. I looked around one more time, as if my surroundings were going to change, before asking the dreaded question. “Uh- where are we exactly? What's going on?”
He stopped in front of me and looked around, a smug smirk now evident as his golden eyes scanned the room. They met my blue and he finally spoke: “You're dead.”
“You're hilarious. Seriously, where are we?”
“You think I'm kidding?” He questioned, clearly amused that I didn't believe him. It's not that I didn't believe him, because I knew; I just didn't want to believe it.
“Yeah, I do.” I studied him for a moment. “Who are you?”
“I've got many names. Thanatos, Ankou, Pesta, Samael, Hades, Anubis, the Grim Reaper,” He paused. “But you'll probably know me as-”
“Death.” I whispered. He nodded.
“Right, that's me. Death. But you can call me any of those other names, I think they're a bit more- appealing than Death.”
“Erm, alright- Anubis.”
We studied one another for a few moments, both of us shocked at each others' appearances- since when was Death sixteen?
“So, uh, not trying to be rude here or anything but since when do you-”
“Look like this?” He motioned towards himself. “Long story short, I'm one of the youngest gods there are in Egyptian and Greek mythology, so I'm basically a child in god standards. As a result I have the personality and appearance of a teenager even though I'm-” He counted off on his fingers. “About two thousand years old.”
I stared at him in awe as he continued looking around the room, his gold eyes showing evident dislike. He acted like it was nothing that he just told me he was two thousand years old.
“I always hated this place. It's so dull and boring.”
I realized he still hadn't answered my question. “So where exactly are we?” I questioned.
“It's sort of like a waiting room for the afterlife, but it's private. Each soul has their own and I occasionally meet with some of them. But most of the time I just let my, erm- my team sort it out.”
Another question immediately shot out of my mouth. “Why did you meet with me?”
“No reason.” He said cooly. “Just found it kinda interesting. Y'know, teenage girl kills herself when she hasn't even experienced life yet.”
“I definitely experienced life and I definitely didn't enjoy it.” I shot back. “I went through hell and I wanted out.”
“Sweetheart, I've been to Hell and let me tell you that what you went through was nothing like it.”
“You don't know anything about me.”
“Oh, but I do. Your name is Storm Marie Alexander, born January 15, 1996 in Paris, France. Your mothers name was Josephine and your father was Mark, y'know, right before he died. You had barely any friends when you moved to the United States and you were constantly pitying yourself, feeling as though your life just wasn't fair because you weren't in Paris anymore with all your other perfect snobby friends. A few days after your sixteenth birthday your dad died of lung cancer and that's when life really started getting you down. You put up a good fight, lasted a few months before the monster that is depression swallowed you whole and you eventually turned your family's garage into a homemade gas chamber. Think I don't know you? Think again Storm.”
I stared at him wide-eyed, my mouth open as I wracked my brain for a clever response. Okay, maybe he did know me. But I never pitied myself.
“Fuck you.” I muttered. He held his hands up in surrender.
“Think I'm being too harsh? I'm Death, I'm not supposed to sugarcoat stuff.”
Our eyes locked once again, the golden embers in his shining bright with wonder and satisfaction. I sighed.
“Sorry. So why am I in a waiting room?”
“You're here because Osiris can't decide what to do with you.”
“How do you know that? You're nothing more than a guide.”
He smirked again. “One hears things. Someone's done their research, eh? Yeah, I am a guide. The one who leads you to the Judgement Hall to have your heart weighed, in the Egyptian sense. Throughout this entire journey we'll be seeing and speaking through the Egyptian point of view, since that is what you believe in. Correct?”
I had done my research on multiple different religions and came to the conclusion that I believed in the many gods of Egypt and worshiped them as someone who had been raised on the religion. It sounds stupid but we're all different, correct?
“Correct.” I said.
“Lovely. See, Heaven and Hell, or in this case, Heaven and the Duat, are seen differently by everyone depending on their religion. For example, if you were Christian you would see Osiris as God and Heaven completely different. I'm seen differently by each person when I'm not in human form. So if I weren't in human form right now you would see my body with the head of a jackyl, whilst most would see me as a skeleton wearing a cloak and carrying a scythe. Got it?”
I nodded although I was still completely confused. He smiled that devious grin of his again before he spoke.
“So lets begin our journey, shall we?”