In That Moment
by Megan Warren
In that moment, Sam knew his life was over. He could see the blade in the murderer's hands, soon to descend into his own chest. His forearms ached from where the crazed man planted his boots in order to hold him down.
"Damn," he whispered into the darkness, closing his eyes and awaiting the sharp pain of the knife. "Sorry, Em."
There was a rush of air and Sam braced himself for the plunge, but it didn't come. The weight on his arms lifted. He opened his eyes, and saw his daughter standing above him, the murderer blocked from view. But something wasn't right...
Ember's back was turned to Sam, he couldn't see her face. In the shadows, he was able to distinguish her hunched-over silhouette, illuminated by the headlights of a passing car. Within those brief moments, he saw the light glint off of something silver on Ember's back. "Oh God, please no..." Sam tried, voice wavering.
Sam swiftly rose to his feet, just in time to catch his sixteen year old daughter as she collapsed the the ground, a knife wedged in her chest. The murderer chuckled low in his throat and turned to leave the scene. The broken father fought the urge to chase after the evil man, unable to bring himself to leave his dying daughter. Instead, Sam collapsed to the ground and watched the killer exit his house into the night, whistling a cheery tune as he strolled down the dark streets.
The father broke his gaze away from the murderer and brought his attention back to Ember in his lap, whose breath was coming in rattles. "Well that was fun," she joked halfheartedly, a sad smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
"Speak for yourself," Sam answered, choking back tears. He made an effort to mimic his daughter's cocky, joking attitude, hoping to make her last moments less painful. He placed his hand on her cheek and met her gentle, forest green eyes. His other hand gently stroked the girl's soft bronze hair.
"I love you," she rasped, inhaling her last breath of life.
"I love you too, baby," Sam whispered, struggling to force the words out of his mouth without crying.
Before anyone else could say anything, Ember had gone, and Sam was left alone in the black, holding the corpse of the only person that still cared for him. Only now did he allow himself to cry, the warm tears streaking down his face like silent waterfalls.
"I'm so sorry, Em," Sam sobbed, clutching the still-warm body of his dead daughter. "I'm so sorry..."
-----
"Is this... heaven?" I turn in a circle, searching the plain, bright white room for an angel or any signs of li- I mean death? "Hello? God? Anyone? Where the hell am I?"
"Sorry! Sorry I'm late! Ah, crap- every time!" A young man darts out from an invisible hole in the wall, looking quite flustered. "Are you Ember Price?" He asks me, blue eyes wide and bright blond hair ruffled. He looks to be around nineteen years old.
"Yeah," I answer dully. "And you are...?"
"I'm Alex, nice to meet you!" The over-excited boy waves at me with far too much enthusiasm, a wide grin painted on his face.
"So are you an angel or what? Are you here to take me to see the Big Guy?" I ask, flicking my gaze up and down Alex. He gives me a look of surprise before erupting in laughter. "Hey! Stop laughing! I'm serious, quit it!"
"Sorry, sorry," Alex wheezes, clutching his sides. "No, I'm no angel," he chuckles, regaining his composure. "I'm actually here on business. I won't be taking you to see anyone new today."
"Well what do you want, then? I just got stabbed in the chest by a whackadoo, so don't plan on me doing you any favors," I scowl. Who does this guy think he is? Just because he's older than me doesn't mean he can just waltz in here and order me around!
"Well, Ember, I do actually have a job for you. You technically weren't supposed to die just now; your father Sam was. You've kinda gone and screwed up the future just a smidge." Upon saying 'just a smidge', Alex positioned his forefinger and thumb several centimeters away from each other before widening the gap between the fingers to show that I had not messed up the future by 'just a smidge'.
"So what am I supposed to do about it?" I question, getting defensive. "Go back to life? Yeah, that'd work. Let me just stand back up on my living room floor and watch dad piss himself, good plan."
Alex laughs once more, the giddy bastard. "Not quite. See, your dad has officially lost his will to live. He's lost everything, and now he's dead-set on hunting down a faceless, nameless man for revenge. We can't have that, as more people will die than just the murderer, and your father will have a lot of blood on his hands. God's pretty P.O.'d that you died instead of your dad so he sent me down here to try and fix everything."
"I thought you said you weren't an angel?"
"Oh, I'm not. You ever wonder what happens to gay people when they die?"
"You have to be kidding me."
Alex smiles and winks at me. "Nope! We become God's little messengers and errand runners. He loves us too much to actually condemn us to Hell, but he can't just make us regular angels. So instead we get to do all the boring jobs, such as this. We don't even get wings!"
"So then is this heaven?"
"Not quite. I guess it's like heaven's waiting room, for lack of a better name. Any other questions?" I sigh in defeat and shake my head, awaiting my instructions to fix the event of my death. "Good! Now, back to the conversation of your task. You have to go back to Earth as a spirit and do everything you can to get your dad on track. Since he didn't die, his potential has increased dramatically."
"What do you mean by 'his potential'?"
"Whenever someone survives an event meant to kill them, they earn a higher chance of influencing the world and the creatures inhabiting it. So your dad has the power to influence the end of the world, or the longevity of it, as does anyone else that survives something like he did. Right now, he seems to be pretty determined to mess a lot of things up back on Earth. Thus, you have to go back to the mortal world and keep him from going on his dramatic, revenge-driven killing spree. You got all that?"
"You're kidding. You know, at this point, I'm not even surprised anymore. I got stabbed, woke up here, have to deal with a giggly gay messenger angel, and am now being told to go back to Earth as a spirit and fix everything. What else could possibly happen?"
"Yep, that's about it! One more thing; you won't be a spirit like in all those horror movies. You'll be totally invisible, because life/death is full of disappointments and horror movies aren't real. Oh, and I'll be with you the entire time to make sure you don't screw anything else up." Alex offers me another wide grin. He's far too cheery about this whole situation for my taste.
"That was a rhetorical question, Alex! Why does all this have to fall to me?" Putting my head in my hands, I sigh in exasperation.
"Because you're the one who messed up the time line. Therefore, only you can make it right again!"
I groan in defeat. "Fine. Fine! Just send me back down to Earth and let me fix everything so I can be done with this."
"Alrighty, away we go!" Alex grins and snaps his fingers, and we're both whirled back into the world of the living, where dad is still holding my corpse and crying. Oh, great. Well, let's get this over with. "That's cute," Alex comments, pointing to the bloody scene in front of us.
"Hey Alex, even though we're invisible and we'll just phase through anything we touch, are we physical beings to each other? Like if I touched your arm, would my hand actually touch you?"
"Yeah, why?" Alex looks at me with a quizzical expression. I can't help myself: I lunge out and punch him in the gut as hard as I can. His cheery expression twists into one of surprise as he staggers backwards, clutching his ribs. Seconds later, he stands back up at full height, laughing.
"Good hit! You're pretty strong," he laughs. I let out a frustrated yell, and if I was able to, I would bang my head against the wall, hoping to die. However, I'm already dead, and my head would simply phase through the wall, so I instead turn my attention back to my sobbing father.
"I'm so sorry, Em," he chokes. "I'll find him, I swear. I'll make him pay for hurting you."
"Damn," he whispered into the darkness, closing his eyes and awaiting the sharp pain of the knife. "Sorry, Em."
There was a rush of air and Sam braced himself for the plunge, but it didn't come. The weight on his arms lifted. He opened his eyes, and saw his daughter standing above him, the murderer blocked from view. But something wasn't right...
Ember's back was turned to Sam, he couldn't see her face. In the shadows, he was able to distinguish her hunched-over silhouette, illuminated by the headlights of a passing car. Within those brief moments, he saw the light glint off of something silver on Ember's back. "Oh God, please no..." Sam tried, voice wavering.
Sam swiftly rose to his feet, just in time to catch his sixteen year old daughter as she collapsed the the ground, a knife wedged in her chest. The murderer chuckled low in his throat and turned to leave the scene. The broken father fought the urge to chase after the evil man, unable to bring himself to leave his dying daughter. Instead, Sam collapsed to the ground and watched the killer exit his house into the night, whistling a cheery tune as he strolled down the dark streets.
The father broke his gaze away from the murderer and brought his attention back to Ember in his lap, whose breath was coming in rattles. "Well that was fun," she joked halfheartedly, a sad smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
"Speak for yourself," Sam answered, choking back tears. He made an effort to mimic his daughter's cocky, joking attitude, hoping to make her last moments less painful. He placed his hand on her cheek and met her gentle, forest green eyes. His other hand gently stroked the girl's soft bronze hair.
"I love you," she rasped, inhaling her last breath of life.
"I love you too, baby," Sam whispered, struggling to force the words out of his mouth without crying.
Before anyone else could say anything, Ember had gone, and Sam was left alone in the black, holding the corpse of the only person that still cared for him. Only now did he allow himself to cry, the warm tears streaking down his face like silent waterfalls.
"I'm so sorry, Em," Sam sobbed, clutching the still-warm body of his dead daughter. "I'm so sorry..."
-----
"Is this... heaven?" I turn in a circle, searching the plain, bright white room for an angel or any signs of li- I mean death? "Hello? God? Anyone? Where the hell am I?"
"Sorry! Sorry I'm late! Ah, crap- every time!" A young man darts out from an invisible hole in the wall, looking quite flustered. "Are you Ember Price?" He asks me, blue eyes wide and bright blond hair ruffled. He looks to be around nineteen years old.
"Yeah," I answer dully. "And you are...?"
"I'm Alex, nice to meet you!" The over-excited boy waves at me with far too much enthusiasm, a wide grin painted on his face.
"So are you an angel or what? Are you here to take me to see the Big Guy?" I ask, flicking my gaze up and down Alex. He gives me a look of surprise before erupting in laughter. "Hey! Stop laughing! I'm serious, quit it!"
"Sorry, sorry," Alex wheezes, clutching his sides. "No, I'm no angel," he chuckles, regaining his composure. "I'm actually here on business. I won't be taking you to see anyone new today."
"Well what do you want, then? I just got stabbed in the chest by a whackadoo, so don't plan on me doing you any favors," I scowl. Who does this guy think he is? Just because he's older than me doesn't mean he can just waltz in here and order me around!
"Well, Ember, I do actually have a job for you. You technically weren't supposed to die just now; your father Sam was. You've kinda gone and screwed up the future just a smidge." Upon saying 'just a smidge', Alex positioned his forefinger and thumb several centimeters away from each other before widening the gap between the fingers to show that I had not messed up the future by 'just a smidge'.
"So what am I supposed to do about it?" I question, getting defensive. "Go back to life? Yeah, that'd work. Let me just stand back up on my living room floor and watch dad piss himself, good plan."
Alex laughs once more, the giddy bastard. "Not quite. See, your dad has officially lost his will to live. He's lost everything, and now he's dead-set on hunting down a faceless, nameless man for revenge. We can't have that, as more people will die than just the murderer, and your father will have a lot of blood on his hands. God's pretty P.O.'d that you died instead of your dad so he sent me down here to try and fix everything."
"I thought you said you weren't an angel?"
"Oh, I'm not. You ever wonder what happens to gay people when they die?"
"You have to be kidding me."
Alex smiles and winks at me. "Nope! We become God's little messengers and errand runners. He loves us too much to actually condemn us to Hell, but he can't just make us regular angels. So instead we get to do all the boring jobs, such as this. We don't even get wings!"
"So then is this heaven?"
"Not quite. I guess it's like heaven's waiting room, for lack of a better name. Any other questions?" I sigh in defeat and shake my head, awaiting my instructions to fix the event of my death. "Good! Now, back to the conversation of your task. You have to go back to Earth as a spirit and do everything you can to get your dad on track. Since he didn't die, his potential has increased dramatically."
"What do you mean by 'his potential'?"
"Whenever someone survives an event meant to kill them, they earn a higher chance of influencing the world and the creatures inhabiting it. So your dad has the power to influence the end of the world, or the longevity of it, as does anyone else that survives something like he did. Right now, he seems to be pretty determined to mess a lot of things up back on Earth. Thus, you have to go back to the mortal world and keep him from going on his dramatic, revenge-driven killing spree. You got all that?"
"You're kidding. You know, at this point, I'm not even surprised anymore. I got stabbed, woke up here, have to deal with a giggly gay messenger angel, and am now being told to go back to Earth as a spirit and fix everything. What else could possibly happen?"
"Yep, that's about it! One more thing; you won't be a spirit like in all those horror movies. You'll be totally invisible, because life/death is full of disappointments and horror movies aren't real. Oh, and I'll be with you the entire time to make sure you don't screw anything else up." Alex offers me another wide grin. He's far too cheery about this whole situation for my taste.
"That was a rhetorical question, Alex! Why does all this have to fall to me?" Putting my head in my hands, I sigh in exasperation.
"Because you're the one who messed up the time line. Therefore, only you can make it right again!"
I groan in defeat. "Fine. Fine! Just send me back down to Earth and let me fix everything so I can be done with this."
"Alrighty, away we go!" Alex grins and snaps his fingers, and we're both whirled back into the world of the living, where dad is still holding my corpse and crying. Oh, great. Well, let's get this over with. "That's cute," Alex comments, pointing to the bloody scene in front of us.
"Hey Alex, even though we're invisible and we'll just phase through anything we touch, are we physical beings to each other? Like if I touched your arm, would my hand actually touch you?"
"Yeah, why?" Alex looks at me with a quizzical expression. I can't help myself: I lunge out and punch him in the gut as hard as I can. His cheery expression twists into one of surprise as he staggers backwards, clutching his ribs. Seconds later, he stands back up at full height, laughing.
"Good hit! You're pretty strong," he laughs. I let out a frustrated yell, and if I was able to, I would bang my head against the wall, hoping to die. However, I'm already dead, and my head would simply phase through the wall, so I instead turn my attention back to my sobbing father.
"I'm so sorry, Em," he chokes. "I'll find him, I swear. I'll make him pay for hurting you."