The concept of death has captivated our imaginations since the beginning of human society. It has formed cultures, defined religions, shaped the course of history. Write about death. It can be lighthearted, humorous, hopeful, respectful, dreading, mournful, optimistic--you can paint it in any light you would like. Any style and format- poetry, prose, story, fiction, nonfiction, etc.

102 reads

My Child

Dead.

He was hit by a car on the way home

Oh well seems to happen all the time.

I see him wondering in the darkness,

calling out to anyone,

anything.

Hello,

I say,

making my prescience known.

who are you and where am I,

he paused,

My wife and kids are they okay.

I like this version of you,

I thought,

before thinking of an answer.

Your family is fine,

You have been racking up quite the experiences,

I say with a smile.

You are almost there,

my child.

It's funny to see him confused,

every time is the same,

same reaction.

Where am I,

what is this place,

he is defiantly confused.

You are just outside your universe,

well the one I have created for you,

I laugh he is even more confused.

What now,

he says,

quite scared.

I thought,

I will send you back to ancient Rome as a slave girl,

wish eyes widened.

What!?

he exclaimed.

I sighed,

I thought it was obvious,

You are being reincarnated, i say.

he thought,

well then,

are you a god?

I laughed,

I guess you could say that,

I come from a place very different than yours,

we are all "Gods" there.

How come I don't remember all this every time,

he says,

and I think.

Every time you lose your memory but,

If you stay here long enough you will remember all,

but that is just a waste of time.

He is still confused,

I sigh,

don't you get it, you are everyone.

His eyes go wide,

I am everyone,

he asks.

I roll my eyes,

yes,

everyone on your earth is a variation of you.

He smiles,

So I am Martin Luther King Jr.,

yes, I say.

he frowns,

So I am Hitler,

again yes, I say.

It gets quite,

every time he says this,

still is funny to me.

He looks up,

why,

he says.

I smile,

my favorite part,

every time.

I created this world to give you many experiences one man cannot acquire himself. By making you a family man you learn to love. By making you Martin Luther King Jr. you learn to lead. By making you Hitler you learn that actions can bring so much pain to others. And lastly, making you that slave girl will humble you. Every life I give you comes with a lesson. Every time you die you are reborn. You are a child and I am neutering you so you can become something great.

He sat in awe, when will it all stop? I smiled, it stops when you want it all to stop and when you are ready. It got quite, all was reveled. Time to go.