The unseen

Death is inevitable. Expected. Concrete. The afterlife however is entirely unknown; A culturally bound, socially constructed proposal of what may be, relative to the individual it is impossible to define singularly. What you must remember is that death is not always a closed curtain, sometimes it’s the beginning of an everlasting encore – death, much like life, is what we make it.

This is my entry to the write about an image competition

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2. Purgatory

Purgatory started in a dark room with shadows for walls and no windows. Here his past-life returned to him as his personality slowly synchronised with the memories of his former self and he became Liam Pearce once more. His life could now be recalled in detail, every wasted opportunity and innocuously uninspiring event. His death however was concealed, a blur of colours with no clarity or meaning.

Two figures entered the room in simple collared tunics. They were transparent, but not like a ghost. Ghosts are dull apparitions, these beings had energy within, a cosmic force which enveloped their exterior in an eerie glow. One figure was taller and stood proud. He was much older than Liam, with greyed hair and wrinkled skin, no longer mortal he had not aged in years – his soul taking on the form of his past body at its demise. He afforded Liam a two second glance before turning to his comrade and exclaiming “It appears Burnie achieved the impossible then.”

“Indeed” His comrade, also male with a more youthful appearance, replied. “Boy, Come” he beckoned Liam. In life Liam would have objected, he was not a boy and did not expect to be patronised in such a way. There was something in the figures tone, however, which made him obey. “Here’s what you need to know. In life you had your own interests at heart, they were the pinnacle of your world, Here you trust the plan and put everything into your mission. We are heavens foot-soldiers. We do not make decisions, we follow orders, we earn points we get the hell out of here and past the final judgement. Heaven is over capacity as it is, if you think gaining acceptance will be easy think again, they really test us now. I’ve been here for 81 years, believe me, there are no shortcuts.”

“You’ll need to know the three golden rules of being a purger also.” Figure one continued in a tone to match his comrade. “One, no matter what occurs in the field, we remain a team, there must be 3 members at all times, We’re graded on combined scores so you slack and you’ll affect mine and Theo’s afterlife too. Don’t do that. Two, remain invisible; if the mortals catch on as we modify their situations the plan-makers deduct points. We do not interfere, we guide, this is important. Three, NEVER question the plan. It’s up to us to interpret what we see but there’s always a final outcome the planmakers want. The limbodian whispers help, never ignore the whispers – they are your gut, the lost souls are like the connection between the living and the dead, when we are in the field they're the only connection to the planmakers, generally manifested in some unassuming object. Got it?”

Liam nodded tentatively although he understood very little. The room began to buzz with activity, as the walls of shadow slowly closed around them. The dark was ominous, thickly intense like black smoke. Liam spun, seeing nothing, searching for an escape as panic bubbled up within him. Before the panic could climax a dim light seeped through the darkness, bringing with it a deathly cold numbing his entire entity. He took the light as hope.

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