I always thought that when good people died, they turned into angels and went to Heaven, while bad people became demons and went to Hell. I was wrong. When people die, they don’t become angels or demons, they just become the remnants of what they used to be. They are just the spirits of the humans they once were, but where they go, is an entirely different matter.
Righteous people’s spirits are lifted up to heaven, so far off and high beyond the relativity that humans think of as the sky, that other spirits can’t even see how far they’ve gone…and they definitely can’t see the pearly gates, if they even exist. There is much debate about what makes a person righteous by those of us who weren’t granted the title, but it pretty much boils down to anyone who was a pretty decent person and actually whole heartily believed in something greater than themselves.
Can’t believe I spent all my mortal life making fun of people who “believed” and that I publicly proclaimed on multiple occasions that if Heaven exists, it would probably be open to any good person. I honestly thought that as long as I wasn’t a rapist or serial killer, I’d be ok. I was, at least for the moment, better off than the rapists and killers. They were all dragged, by their bleeding eye sockets that had been gouged out by their soon to be hellish neighbors, straight down into a boiling pit of fire, which I took to be entrance into Hell.
I wish there was a way to keep track of time here. I just want to know how long I’ve been on this path. Everyone who didn’t making it straight into Heaven or Hell, was given a path to follow to decide where they’d spend eternity. Based on the way you lived your life, whether you were good or bad and to what extent, your path was either wide or narrow in varying degrees, smooth or rock, lit or dim, and so on.
My path was relatively wide, dimly lit, and bumpy. I was actually one of the more fortunate ones. Very few people were given wide, smooth, well lit paths with very few obstacles along the way; as far as I could tell. It’s seems like I’ve been traveling this road for ages, but there really is no way to tell. I haven’t encountered any obstacles at the moment other than navigating the bumpy path. A few days ago or weeks, who knows, I stumbled across this journal square in the center of my path. I knew the journal was meant for me and that I should take it and write in it.
It took me a few days or weeks, I don’t really know, before I was ready to start writing. As I continued to walk along the path, I discovered pencils and erasers, and sticky notes, and paper clips. I was very leery of the odd and eerie gifts. I thought for sure I was headed down a path leading me straight to Hell and that these gifts were just tokens of false hope meant to build me up for a huge let down. The more I thought about this horrible possibility the less and less gifts I received and the harsher my path grew.
One day, I think it was early, but really had no way of telling, I grew tired. For however long I had been traveling this path, I’d never needed to stop for rest, eat, drink, or use the bathroom. When I sat down to rest, I finally pulled out my journal and began to write in it…
Well that’s all I have for the moment. This is officially a new WIP. Since today is I Love to Write Day, I decided to just sit down and write whatever came into my head until it stopped coming. This is the result. I will probably leave it like this for a couple of days before going back to what happens next in the story.
I’ve been a busy bee as usual networking, reading, writing, and as always learning. I am eight chapters into my romance now. My adventure has been taking a long nap; maybe I’ll try to wake it up this weekend. Still beta testing the sequel to my currently book before committing it to a professional edit.
This week over at the Eternal Curse Series, I was visited by author Paula Stiles. She has some really great stories to share and tomorrow I’ll post the lovely interview we conducted. That’s all for now. Have a wonderful rest of the week.