Forever
It’s about time they let me grace the Earth again. The world was needing a little more pizazz, and lucky for them, I’ve got it.
But unfortunately for planet Earth, my time here is only a mere hour. 60 minutes. 3600 seconds. And while the world is in desperate need of entertainment, I cannot waste my precious time here for them because after this one hour, it’s back to heaven for me.
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People say I’m pessimistic and ungrateful that way, that I don’t value my time on Earth and that’s why it ended so quickly. (Pro tip: We heaven-ees can still hear what you say about us. You may want to hold your tongue, Mrs. Channing.) There was one person who never said that though, who accepted me for who I am and loved me. And as her name tattooed on my pale skin catches my eyes, I know what I’m supposed to do in this one hour.
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Perhaps it should be a problem walking on public sidewalks like a normal human being after being pronounced dead six months ago, but nothing has changed since then. People never noticed me then, and people don’t notice me now. As I drag my leather boots against the pavement to bring attention myself, I’m met with turned backs and distracted eyes. And perhaps it’s better this way.
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It’s good nothing had changed since then. She’s still as gorgeous as ever, with ebony hair waiting for me to curl with my finger and rosy lips begging to slap mine against. She makes me want to stand there forever, to bask in the light radiating from her mere presence, but I stop myself. For I only have a half hour until I return to heaven, and I need her for much longer than that.
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She’s sitting on her bed, reading “The Tale of Desperaux”. It’s her favorite book, despite its intended audience being fifteen years younger than her. I like that about her, how she’s unashamed of her childishness. It’s part of why I need her. I think now’s the best time, though, so I take out what’s hiding in my back pocket.
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The sunlight reflects silver onto the dusty pages of her book, and before she can look up to see why, a knife plunges into her stomach. Crimson pours out, smearing the words and staining her bedsheets, and she stares at me in horror, wondering if it’s her imagination I’ve returned.
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But it’s not.
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She begs me to take out the knife and take her to a hospital, to get her treated so she can stay on the land of the living.
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But I don’t.
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For I only have a few minutes until I return to heaven, and now, she can join me.
00:00
And forever we will be together.