The Afterlife

For homework in RE we were assigned to find out more about faith in the afterlife. At the same time I noticed this contest on Movellas. So an idea clicked, and I decided to write this...
The answer to that anonymous question is finally revealed.


1. The letter


 'Death was never something I used to think about. Sure, we'd all go cursing our siblings with the familiar "I'm gonna kill you". But it was never something that really clicked in my mind, like, what does the aftelife hold? Do you become a ghost, like the fairytales and classics? Did you go to heaven or hell, after being judged by the good or bad events that occured in your life? Did you just live in a white heaven until you waited for your next life?

 I was never even prepared to find out the truth.

Bullying was something I did know, though. And from top to bottom too. It happened to me everyday, the same position on Earth at 74 Calders Lane, the black eyes and torture. Scars remain on your body like glue to paper, but when cleaned, it rubs off. The memories are worse. They are seared into your brain and you can't get the filling out of a pastry unless you cut it. So I did.

 It never did come off though, cause when I died, I could still remember every detail. At least it didn't hurt me. At least I knew that I wasn't Britain's most saddest girl with a sad, ruined life. It was all over, for good, no matter who I was now.

 I committed suicide quite soon in my life. I remember a sharp pain, the most I could ever have experienced. It was only for a blink though, and aferwards, I felt a certain bliss, like having a hot bath. I could see out of my body. My eyes twirled around to face my figure, the still figure that lay stabbed on the bed. It was gory and horrible, and at that moment I didn't know what to do. so I looked down. I didn't even have a body, just vision. Just frozen in that position, looking at that girl who used o be me, lying lifeless and painfully on the bed. It hurt me emotionally. It hurt me even more when my mother came into the room.

 Her face turned pale. She didn't understand. She suddenly rushed to the bed and burts into tears, screaming and shouting my name. She gasped as her hand ran through the knife, the knife that was now seared into my body. I didn't know what to do either. I just stood and watched my mother cry and call my name like it was the last thing she would do, scocked ad horrified at the pain I had put everyone through.

 Suddenly I felt a sharp pain in my eyes. I found them shutting. Shuting down forever. I couldn't go, I though, I couldn't leave my helpless mother. Slowly I started to -'


"Are you sure?" I asked in astonishment. My eyes skimmed through the letter. If this wasn't a fake, it could turn the world of Science around. Completely.

"Yes, I found it on my road. Just lying there. I picked it up to read it, and then I thought I should bring it to you."

"You found it on the road?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Look Bobby, you need to be honest with me. This could just be a school assignment, or a prank. I can't even trust you, sorry to break it to you."

 Bobby sat down in despair. Her face wandered around the room. I felt sad to let a Sixth Form girl down, someone who could have just found valuable evidence, though the chances are unlikely.

 "What road did you find this on?"

 "Whitesheaf lane."

 I typed in the name on the computer and flicked to the maps. Whiteseaf lane...........right next to Calder's lane.

 "What could this mean?" I thought. Suddenly my mind clicked.

 "I....I think we need to take a little trip to your neighbourhood."

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