(Note from Staff: We’re resuming scrollable viewing without the page turning effect for now…)
What if I’m going about this whole thing wrong? I mean, I could re-do my last day as such an outlandish way that it would make me feel better about how I really died. I mean, I could really cook something up. Carl never said that my last day had to be composed of something from the real world. I think it might be kind of sad that I might only be okay with being eaten by a dinosaur or something to feel better about having died. But, my sister has a very good point.
I would have had to re-do more than just one day to feel like I really fixed anything. All that I can really do is bring myself closure and leave my family feeling even more horrid about my passing. That’s selfish. It was already hard with me dying so suddenly and no one being able to say good bye. It was already hurtful to have my daughter’s tears stained on my heart from the moment she found out. It was already so bad.
Maybe my catharsis should be self contained. No more apologizing. No more last attempts at visiting or having a better death in terms of normal ways of dying. I’ve got to try at least three truly horrible things to see if it is indeed possible to feel better about this.
Otherwise, I will do what my sister did and just try to make my peace with what I’ve got. That and spend time with my dad. He’s been dead for a while now too. I’m sure he’d like to hear from me. He died of old timer’s coupled with a bunch of strokes. He died before I did and I missed him and feel like I sort of sank into being horrible and bitter because I was mad that my dad was gone and he’s the only one I think ever really loved me without any strings attached.
That’s not to say that my mother didn’t, but we are very much alike and butt heads more than we probably would have if I wasn’t so set in being right and forcing her to see things my way, which of course she never did. And damn, she was right abut so much that I didn’t want to admit to.
So, how shall I start this off? I was a fan of scary movies for so long. I don’t think it will be that scary since I know I will die at the end anyway. So, I’m going to go with a story that was based on actual events.
Or so they say, at least three people up here that I’ve taken the time to meet so far said that they were victims of an infamous cannibal family. The names of who don’t really matter because the only one that stood out was… Leatherface.
I returned to Carl’s office the next morning with chagrin.
“This is therapy, not an amusement park.” he said trying not to laugh.
“I really think that running for my life only to be consumed by something other than my foolish pride is the way to go on this Carl.” I said, like a teenager trying to bargain for lost privileges.
“You don’t understand the emotional damage you are inflicting on yourself do you?” he asked, serious.
“I’m having epiphany after epiphany about myself. I think knowing myself in a way that I have never known my own motives and desires before is healing.” I continued.
“Running for your life will make you feel like you were right to play the victim when you just learned at the tsunami that you were in control all along. I really think that’s a step in the wrong direction Gemma.” he continued.
“Fine. Do you have any ideas?” I asked.
“Several and none of which I am permitted to tell you. I’m not allowed to plant the seed into your brain for it to grow into some demented version of truth you are willing to accept. This is your death that your mind has to come to grips with.” he continued.
“What about being a ghost?” I asked excited.
“Ghosts are not what you think they are. Most of the time they are people in purgatory who are following around their loved ones as penance for taking their lives.” Carl said.
“Everyone who is a ghost died by suicide?” I asked in disbelief.
“No. Just because you die committing a sin doesn’t mean you go to Hell. If you’re saved and have made Jesus your Lord and Savior you can still go to heaven. Just like if you died in the middle of lying, or stealing. Remember, sin is sin to God. He’s not going to deny you entrance nitpicking over which one you were doing when your spirit left your body and wound up here.”Carl continued.
“Interesting. I never knew that. Okay, well then, what about if I die by something out of a movie. Like in a different era. Can I re-do my last day in the wild west or in a medieval castle?” I asked.
“Let me see what I can do. No one has tried that in quite some time. I’m not sure what was banned and what wasn’t.” Carl said and zapped out of the room.
Ok so, teleporting really is a thing here. Maybe there’s a class or something I can take after I square away my death.