They don’t tell you that when you die, there’s a brief moment where you’re suspended in time. Floating. Waiting. Hoping you’ll transition into the next state of being quickly.

The day I died was like any other. I woke up, got dressed, and barely had time to snag a half-buttered piece of toast before running out the door to catch the bus. I was only fifteen. A baby, really, when it happened.

I went to school, kept my head down. I didn’t want to be noticed. I wasn’t popular, not by any stretch of the imagination. But at least I wasn’t clumped into some subhuman category by the high school elites. In fact, I doubted they were even aware that I existed.

My only claim to fame—if you could even call it that—stemmed from my time spent on the soccer field. I was a halfway decent player. Honestly, I was probably one of the better players on the team. I was a defender; my job was to keep the ball as far away from the goalie and net as possible. I wasn’t afraid of a little confrontation. Not on the soccer field, at least. It made me brave, I supposed, or maybe stupid. It was anyone’s guess.

I was in the middle of a soccer game, playing what felt like the longest, most ridiculous game of footsie ever, when I fell limp. The girl who had been trying to get the ball past me saw my collapse as her opportunity. She sped by and took a shot. Georgia, our goalie, almost stopped her, but the ball slipped right through her fingers at the last second. I cursed.

It was only then that I realized that something wasn’t quite right with this picture. My body was still sprawled out on the grass, my eyes closed, and yet I was standing up straight and watching everything go down with a keen eye. It was in the next instant that I noticed my feet weren’t touching the ground. Instead, they were hovering a few feet above my body; they were still fully clad in my soccer cleats.

Finally, other people recognized that something was wrong; they realized I still hadn’t gotten up. A few adults shouted. The girls on the field looked my way, their mouths agape. My dad and older brother jumped off the bleachers and ran to me, both of their faces extremely pale. My dad’s was pinched tight, his eyes concerned. The athletic trainer came next with her medical bag swinging against her hip. She dropped down next to my still form.

She listened for a heartbeat. Nothing. She checked again. She started chest compressions. Nothing. She looked at my family.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

My dad shook his head. Told her to check again, to do something, anything.

“She’s gone.”

The next thing I knew, something even more bizarre happened. My brother started crying. No, he was sobbing. Dad got to his knees and reached for me, cradling my body to his chest, and rocking back and forth. I looked at my family, wanting to comfort them, but not knowing how.

I thought of all the things I’d never get to do. Never get to see, smell, touch, taste, or hear. I thought of Billy, the cute and tragically awkward boy who blushed every time he saw me. I had thought once about putting him out of his misery by taking the first step and asking him out on a date. But I didn’t do it. Why, I wasn’t sure exactly. Maybe for some silly reason I thought he’d turn me down and I was convinced that I wouldn’t be able to handle the rejection well. Now I’d never know.

College came to mind. I had intended to study history and art. I wanted to work as a museum curator, in someplace like the Smithsonian in Washington, D.C. That wouldn’t be happening.

Eventually, down the road, I had considered starting a family. My mind—or spirit? I wasn’t entirely sure anymore—conjured up images of the children I’d never get to have. For some reason unbeknownst to me, the little boy I imagined looked a heck of a lot like Billy; he sported short, dark, curly hair, freckles, and little round glasses.

And then, out of seemingly nowhere, a bright light appeared. I had watched enough TV shows and movies to realize that that light was probably meant for me. Was I just supposed to walk right in? Should I knock first? Could I even knock first? I decided to take my chances and just walked right in unannounced. After all, what was the worst that could happen? I was already dead.

When I made it past the bright light, I looked around, and was shocked to see that I was in a place that resembled a hotel lobby. A single elevator sat next to the reception desk. A man with dark skin and kind brown eyes smiled at me.

“Hello, you must be Tilly.”

“Hi.” I didn’t know what else to say.

“I’m Gabriel. I’ll be helping you get to where you need to go.”

“Okay.”

A chair appeared next to me. I sat in it. Gabriel typed on the computer that suddenly became visible to me. Odd, that even in Heaven—or wait, maybe this place was Limbo?—technology still existed.

“Gabriel?” I hesitated. He glanced up.

“What happened to me?”

He looked at me sympathetically. “Your heart gave out. You’ve had a heart defect for a while now, but you weren’t presenting any symptoms, so no one knew to treat it.”

“Oh,” I said, nodding. I stopped speaking and Gabriel went back to typing.

“Good news!” Gabriel said suddenly. “You’re heading up. If you follow me to the elevator, I can show you which button you’ll need to press.”

I followed him. He told me I’d need to go to floor 201. A lady would greet me there, and she would help me with the transition. I didn’t argue.

“Thank you.”

“You’re most welcome,” Gabriel replied.

I pressed the button and held my breath. Here goes nothing.

I ascended.

Sarah thought she might be sick as she stared at the small, white stick that rested on the bathroom counter. Her hands shook. She set the timer.

03:00. 02:59. 02:58…

She was an idiot. Plain and simple. Really, how could she have allowed this to happen? How could she have been so reckless? This wasn’t her, not really. She was a good girl. The kind of girl that never missed a lecture and always participated in class. What had she been thinking?

02:43. 02:42. 02:41…

Sarah’s stomach twisted uneasily, almost as if someone was tying her insides into knots. Her breath caught in her chest. Her hand clutched at her throat. This couldn’t be happening. Not right now. She had way too much she had to do before something like this could happen. She had another year before she finished undergrad; her summer was supposed to be spent prepping for the LSAT.

02:36. 02:35. 02:34…

How would she tell Kyle? They’d barely been together two months. What they had wasn’t serious. It was just supposed to be something casual and fun, something neither one of them had ever indulged in before. They were both experimenting, testing out the waters before they went out into the real world in a little over a year. He deserved to know, though, didn’t he? It’s not like he was a bad guy.

02:21. 02:20. 02:19…

Sarah’s hand drifted down to her abdomen. She pressed her palm against it gently. This was not how she intended to do this. She’d had a plan; it had been a really good one, too. A smart one. But plans change, and clearly hers was going to have to. She’d figure it out, though, wouldn’t she? She wasn’t stupid—at least, not most of the time. It’s not as if she’d be the first young woman to have a baby while she was still in college. She’d go to her academic advisor; they’d come up with a plan, one that was feasible. This didn’t have to be the end of the world, not entirely.

01:50. 01:49. 01:48…

Oh, God. Her parents. They were going to kill her. They’d both warned her against this very situation. They weren’t naïve enough to think that she’d never have premarital sex. That wasn’t it. But they’d told her to be safe. To always use protection. To never take any unnecessary risks, no matter how in lust or love she felt she was. They’d ensured that those words were ingrained into her mind. How had she forgotten, even for one singular moment?

01:32. 01:31. 01:30…

Sarah heard the front door of her apartment open. It was Talia, her roommate. She’d gotten home from class early. Sarah pushed the bathroom door closed and locked it. She loved and trusted Talia like a sister, but this was something she had to do on her own. She needed time to process this by herself, even if it was only for five extra minutes.

01:17. 01:16. 01:15…

How in the world was she going to be a mom? She could barely take care of herself, let alone a tiny human that would be entirely dependent upon her. Would Kyle help? She thought he would. She’d been smart enough, at the very least, to pick a guy that was worth his salt. He wasn’t someone who would just shirk his responsibilities. After all, this baby would be just as much his as it would be hers.

01:04. 01:03. 01:02…

Sarah looked in the mirror at her reflection. Her skin was light enough as it was, but right now it looked nearly translucent. She pinched her cheeks to bring some color back into them. She needed to get herself to relax, at least a little bit. What was done was done. She’d be helping no one if she keeled over because she hadn’t taken a proper breath since the timer started.

00:47. 00:46. 00:45…

She still planned to go to law school. Sure, it would be more difficult now, what with a baby in tow. But there were daycares on university campuses. It’s not like this was the 1950s. And she had to believe that Kyle would be nearby. He was a law school hopeful, just like she was. She never thought she’d pick which law school to go to based on a guy, but she was quickly realizing that she didn’t really have any other option. She would need all of the help she could get and she wasn’t too proud to ask for it.

00:22. 00:21. 00:20…

Sarah stared at the screen of her phone. The seconds kept ticking by. She’d turned the pregnancy test face-down. She couldn’t bring herself to look at it until the three minutes were up. She was nervous enough already. If she’d watched for the lines on the stick to appear, she would’ve completely lost it by now and melted into a puddle on the floor.

00:10. 00:09. 00:08…

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. What in the hell was she going to do with a baby? This was crazy. Absolutely freaking insane. Sarah reminded herself to breathe. She had to. If not for her own sake, at least for the baby’s. Oh, Lord. That sort of thinking would take some getting used to.

00:03. 00:02. 00:01…

The timer beeped. Sarah jumped, then froze. Here goes. She reached for the pregnancy test. It felt exceptionally heavy in her hand. She turned it over.

There was only one line. It was negative.

Sarah felt such a sharp sense of relief that heat pricked her eyes. They became misty.

For one unexplainable second, an emptiness washed over her. She didn’t have any other word for the feeling except loss. Just as quickly as it arrived, though, it vanished.

She slid down the bathroom wall and landed on the floor with a soft thud. Her insides still felt tangled and her chest flooded with a mix of unexpected emotions.

She had been so worried, and yet, it had only been a false alarm.