A little girl, approximately nine years old, sits on a large tree stump in a lush, green meadow. She wears a blue sundress, and her long, wavy black hair is held back by a single snap clip that keeps her bangs out of her eyes. She sits there seemingly upset and crying.
"That's very rude of you, Rebecca, to keep us all waiting here for you"
A man in his early thirties, with short black hair, wearing a white dress shirt and tan khakis says. He has a rugged face and kind eyes. Despite his presence, Rebecca ignores him and continues to cry.
"Rebecca I'm talking to you.. your mom and brothers are all ready to go back home."
She lowers her head, tears streams from her eyes and soaks into the grass below. The man gazes at her with a look of concern on his face.
"Why..?" Rebecca says clenching her fists tight.
"Dad.. why do we have to do this?.. Why do we have to move away?"
Her dad looks at her heartbroken about her sadness. "Hun I told you why-it's because I got promoted to a new position at my job, and the new position is in New York. Tha..."
BASH!!
Rebecca hits her fist against the tree stump. More tears fell onto the grass in greater volume.
"IT'S NOT FAIR! All my friends are here! My school is here.. Grandma and Grandpa are here!.. It's not fair..." Her father walks up and takes a seat next to her on the tree stump.
"I know that this happened all so suddenly. And that change can be scary.. This is a big change..." He places his hand on her back to comfort her as she weeps.
"Listen, Squeaker, change hurts. It makes people feel insecure, confused and angry. People want things to be the same as they've always been, because that makes life easier. But, life is not easy. Change means moving forward; you cannot cling to the past, that will only keep you chained down."
Rebecca listens closely as her father speaks, the tears lessened as they are slowly flowing.
"Change is hard because people overestimate the value of what they have and underestimate the value of what they may gain by giving that up."
She looks up at her father, who then embraces her tightly. "I'm sorry dad." Rebecca says as her tears fall onto her father's dress shirt.
"You won't be alone on this journey; I'll be right there with you, always."
He stands up, and she follows suit. Rebecca grabs her father's hand, holding it firmly as they walk off into the field, toward the buildings in the distance.
At Death's Door's
The sound of footsteps on a tiled surface reverberates through the room.
"It's time to wake up, Rebecca."
The voice of an elderly man with a gravelly tone says. An older woman with medium-length, wavy silver hair, dressed in an elegant deep forest green business casual dress, lies on a black-and-white checkered tile floor in a relatively small room. At the elderly man's command, she opens her eyes.
She attempts to push herself off the floor and into a sitting position but struggles to do so. Rebecca's entire body feels like jelly, and she lacks the strength to pull herself up. After a short while, however, she manages to do so. As her vision sharpens and the fog in her mind begins to clear, she becomes increasingly aware of her surroundings.
The sight of what appears before her eyes slightly shocks her. As she cannot recollect how she had gotten in the room, she now finds herself in.
"Ah I see that you are finally up."
The voice of the elderly man says emanating from the left side of her.
AAAAEHHHHH!!
The sudden voice startled her. Looking to her left, she saw a man who appeared to be in his late sixties, standing 6'3 with short white hair. He was pale, his skin resembled that of a body on the corners table.
His eyes were a bright amber and reflective like those of a wild predator at night. He wore an all-black suit with a red tie and buttons. Leaning forward, he stood over her, his hands resting on a walking cane topped with a golden skull as its handle.
The sight of this man left her speechless, frozen in a state of panic and unable to utter a word.
"Well come on then. Get on your feet. I don't have all day; I've got a quota to meet."
He says as he taps the top of the golden skull with his finger tips.
The old man's impatience resonates with her, accompanied by an aura of despair and malice. As she rises to her feet, she experiences a sensation of weightlessness.
"Where am I? A...And who are you? How did I get here!?"
Questions flood her mind as her thoughts become clearer. A sense of panic and fear begins to take hold, driven by the anticipation of what the old man might say to her-the dread of being confronted with the reality of her fate.
"Where are you? You don't know? Where do you think you are? A small room with two doors and an old man in black."
He says this while sweeping his right arm over the room, showcasing their current environment, while his other hand rests on the golden skull of his cane.
Rebecca looked around the room after being prompted by the old man in black. It was fairly small, yet it had a grand sense of scale. The ceiling extended far beyond what was necessary. The floor was tiled in a black-and-white pattern, and the walls were made of off-white marble, adorned with intricate carvings throughout them.
The scene depicted many things: a war between angels and demons; a massive serpent emerging from the sea, guarding some kind of entryway; and men kneeling before a figure with a sun halo around his head.
Most notably, there were two large wooden doors adorned with ornate carvings upon their surface. The doors were so enormous that they appeared to have been made for giants. Flanking the doors were two tall marble pillars.
The sight before her was a marvel she had never seen before, which made it all the more terrifying to her, especially considering how she had even gotten there in the first place.
"Why would I know where I am? I just woke up here. The last thing I remember is that I was in..."
CLINK!
The old man raised his cane and brought it down with considerable force, causing Rebecca to pause in her recall.
"Ah yes, you were in where?" The old man asked, a slight grin appeared on his face.
"I was in the street..." Beads of sweat formed on her forehead, as snippets of images flashed before her eyes-memories of something that used to be.
"Go on."
The old man said, while staring at her intensely. "I was crossing the street; the bus stop was on the other side.."
The hairs on the back of her neck and arms began to rise as she continued down her line of recollection.
"I had to make it there before the next one arrived; otherwise, I would be late for my meeting."
The old man clutches the golden skull of his cane tightly.
"Yes.. That's it."
Her throat begins to dry up, feeling like cotton. "It was on a busy New York street, with numerous buses, cars, and bike couriers everywhere. It was raining that day, making it more difficult to navigate than usual..."
The old man's grin slightly widens. "And then th.th..th..." She lacks the will to continue her dialogue; it is as if her body is trying to protect her from herself.
"The what?"
His smile is now as wide as it can be, to the point where it becomes uncannily frightening.
"The bus... As I was crossing the street, a bus on a different route approached. Visibility was severely limited due to the heavy rain. And..."
Her eyes widened as she came to the horrifying realization of what had happened to her that day.
"The bus hit me... dead on..."
Rabacca falls to her knees.
"I..I'm dead..."
Tears stream down her face as she stares blankly into the void of her mind.
"Yes. Very good! If you don't remember Death, then Death reminds you to do so."
The old man's words rang true to Rebecca, for death itself reminded her of the harsh reality of her current circumstances. The uncanny smile on the old man's face dissolves into a stern expression.
CLINK!
He once again slammed his cane against the black-and-white checkered tile floor, prompting Rebecca to pay attention.
"Now then, back to business. As you can see, there are two doors before you. It is my responsibility to ensure that you choose one. Are you with me so far, lady?"
Rebecca looks up at the old man in black, his reflective amber eyes piercing through her soul as he stares back at her. It was almost enough to deter her from challenging the old man's authority, yet she was never one to comply with authority.
"Why?"
The old man tilts his head to the side, like an animal trying to understand what the foolish human is doing.
"Why what?" He retorted.
"Why do I have to choose? Why does it matter? Why does anything matter anymore? I'm already dead; what's the point in these asinine games?"
Haha!
Hahaha!!
The old man erupted in laughter, leaving Rebecca with a profound sense of unease.
CLINK!
The laughter had disappeared as quickly as it came. The old man's face, serious with a fixed gaze on Rebecca.
"It doesn't matter to me whether or not you understand, this is just my job. I only need to make sure that you pick a door and go through it and that's all."
He says while not breaking eye contact, or changing facial expression.
Rebecca, taken aback by the constant abrupt change in the old man's demeanor, she hesitates to speak and just feels the need to be obedient and do what he says. But her being who she is, she knew that she couldn't do that.
It would have been a betrayal to her own self. she had been 65 at the time of her death and didn't make her career as a successful business woman by being obedient and compliant.
Her feeling the way she has since awakening in this white marble room wasn't who she is, who she was.. And therefore needed to be who she truly had always been, a no nonsense takes charge kind of person. So she picked herself off the floor and composed herself before responding to the old man in black.
"First of all it's rude to know one's name, when the person you are talking to doesn't know yours." She says while fixing her dress and making sure that everything is all in place.
"And second why do I have to pick a door? which one is the right one to pick?"
Hahaha!! Very good haha!!
The old man in black says, finding Rebecca's newly found sense of confidence amusing.
CLINK!
The old man's cane strikes the tiles beneath it once more, echoing like a judge's gavel in court, attempting to restore order in the room.
"Your people have many names for me, grim reaper, fairy man. I am and have been the reaper of wayward souls for millennia, since the dawn of time itself."
The old man's eyes glow brightly, and everything around him darkens as he speaks. Rebecca feels cold, overwhelmed by a sense of impending doom.
"Call me what I am, as my father made me. From the beginning of this game of life, I am its game over. Yes, girl, call me what I bring: death is the only name and thing I know."
Rebecca feels as if her very soul is being drained, teetering on the brink of being extinguished like a flame upon a candle in the wind. Her eyes flutter as darkness begins to close in.
CLINK!
The sound of the room's mediator echoes throughout the area, fully reigniting her soul as Death's presence and aura returns to its baseline.
"And second, I can't tell you which door you should go through. I can only tell you what's behind them; it's up to you to choose one."
Rebecca, now aware of the scale of Death's power, hesitates to push back at all. However, she realizes that, as he said earlier, this is ultimately a job, and he wouldn't be doing his job well by destroying a soul. With that thought in mind, she crosses her arms.
"Ok then, so what's behind them?" She says with an annoyed tone in her voice.
"Your fated destiny. Behind the door to your left is a sort of restart. If you go through it, you will be reborn into the same life path and time period you left behind."
A grin appears on Death's face. "But since you will not retain your memories and experiences thus far."
The grin widens as he speaks. "You will go through your life in the exact same way you did the first time, which will ultimately lead you back to this point. This is the reason why many people experience déjà vu."
Death taps his fingers on the top of his golden skull handle, the sound of his fingers clashing against it's gold surface echoes throughout the room.
"It's just people who have all gone through the left door, living out their lives again."
Funnily enough, an overwhelming sense of déjà vu and dread encompasses her entire being as Death explains this.
"As for the door to the right, that represents renewal-a sort of reincarnation. Should you walk through that door, you will be born into another time and life."
His grin transforms into a smile, and his gaze and posture remain steady as he speaks.
"Born into a different family, with a different gender and personality, the person you are now will eventually fade away, making way for a completely new version of yourself."
Rebecca gazes down at her old, withered hands and feels the weary form of the vessel she now inhabits. This vessel only became noticeably cumbersome around her 58th birthday. The idea of returning to her youth was a tempting thought, yet at the same time, she found it unfair.
Going back would mean that she would not become the person she is today for 45 years. The only reason she is who she is now is because of the experiences and memories she has gathered up until this moment. To lose all of that would be to lose herself as she is now.
And to restart would mean losing herself entirely, never to be who she has always been from her perspective again. The thought of that was, to her, worse than death.
"Why is it like this?.." Rebecca clenches her fists tightly.
"What kind of sick joke is this? Is this really what lies at the end of the road?"
Death watches her as she rants, maintaining the same demeanor he had before. His hands rest on the golden skull handle of his cane, and he keeps his unwavering stare on her.
"Instead of an actual destination to an after life, it's just a cross road with either path leading to a never ending cycle of death rebirth and reincarnation!..." Rebecca shakes violently as she yells at Death and everything in the universe.
"This is just how it has always been and always will be. Life is called life for a reason-you have to live it. Perhaps our creator finds entertainment in watching you and your kind play out your lives like a TV show, with every human soul as a channel. And who doesn't like watching reruns."
An angry expression spreads across Rebecca's face at Death's words. Words that only confirm to her that the human race is merely cheap entertainment to some kind of creator.
The idea angered her to her core. "Hey now, why are you mad at me? It's just the same thing I've told you the last times we've met here. I suppose the part of your soul that remembers each visit here doesn't recall that tidbit. Interesting."
Death says as he finds her lack of knowledge about what is happening fascinating.
"What did you say?!"
Rebecca exclaims, as her heart sinks to the pit of her stomach, realizing the implications of what he had just said to her.
"Or remember our past conversations rather. But yes, you've been here before, many times, and you've always chosen the left door without fail each time." His words cut through her like a knife through butter.
"I've just.. Been doing this over and over again!?..."
Rebecca stares blankly at the door on the left. She tries to understand why she always chooses the left door. She chooses to live her life the exact same way every time, with no change. Perhaps having no memory of the first attempt influenced that decision. After all, if you don't remember doing it, everything feels new again.
The only alternative is choosing the right door, which means the death of the person she has been and the life she has ever known in her current form-a new life path, a new body, a new channel.
"Why must you do this same old song and dance? You know which door you'll choose. You're too afraid of the unknown to choose anything different from what you know." Death says with a cheeky grin on his face.
Anger fills Rebecca as she notices the grin on Death's face. Being toyed with was something she was not accustomed to, especially as the owner of a multi-million-dollar corporation. She was the one who did the toying, or so she thought.
"Yeah and how do I know you're telling the truth? What if both doors are bullshit, or you're just trying to trick me into going through the door you want me to choose? How do I know that this is my first time here!?"
She says to Death with an expression of a mixture of fear and anger filled with tenacity.
CLINK!
Death raises and slams the bottom of his cane against the tiled floor. The gavel of the room sounds, echoing throughout the space and reverberating through the ground, demanding that order be maintained. His expression is neutral and authoritative, his amber eyes fixed on her.
She complies with the demand of order, her anger still burning within her, but fearing that she may be pushing her luck, she holds her tongue for now.
"And if i were lying, how would that help you? I don't think you fully understand your situation here. There are three types of lies: lies, damned lies, and statistics."
Death says counting off the three lies he stated on his fingers. "Being able to distinguish between a statistic and a lie still wouldn't help you in this situation I'm afraid."
Rebecca, confused by Death's statement and still filled with anger and irritation, interrupts him.
"Oh yeah? And why is that exactly?"
Death begins tapping his fingertips against the gold skull adorned cane before answering her question.
"For Just because something isn't a lie does not mean it isn't deceptive. A liar knows he is lying, but one who speaks partial truths to deceive is a true craftsman of destruction."
A crooked grin carves upon his face as he explains.
"So by your logic, I could have been strategically leading you toward the right door all along. You see, it doesn't matter-lie or no lie. At the end of the day, you still have to choose a door of your own free will."
The grin on his face grows increasingly crooked with each word.
"But as I said, you are dead, and you have been here before. These are merely the statistics. After all, you have experienced déjà vu-I know it, you know it-which, as I said, is you remembering your past go-around there is no denying it."
His words hurt Rebecca; she knew he was right. She was too afraid of losing herself completely by choosing the door on the right. She feared that if she walked through the right door, she would not only reincarnate as a different person but also cease to be the one behind those new eyes-that she would no longer be an existing soul.
"If you choose the left door, you'll wake up in the same normal world you've always known. And this will all be but as a dream."
He grips the golden skull tightly, gaining great satisfaction from watching souls disappear over their options.
Rebecca knew that Death was right: the only option she had was always the left door. It was the safest choice; after all, she knew what lay behind it-it was nothing new to her. The other door was just too risky. Going through it would mean leaving things up to chance, and chance was not something Rebecca subscribed to.
Without a word, she begins toward the left door. A big smile appears on Death's face as she does. All of her thoughts and old memories rush through her mind. A combination of anxiety and despair comes over her the closer she gets to the door. She stands at the threshold, reaching out her hand for the golden handle. She grasps it firmly.
Death watches with a large, uncanny, inhuman smile on his face, as if he were on the brink of ecstasy. Just before Rebecca pulls on the door handle as to open it, an image flashes through her mind like a sudden memory.
This causes a sharp, intense pain to shoot through her head, as if someone had just stabbed her frontal lobe with an ice pick.
She lets go of the door handle and grabs her head as the pain intensifies. Death's uncanny smile disappears, replaced by a look of confusion.
"This is new.." He says this, tilting his head to the side.
The memory that is trying to break through to her plays out in her mind like a video clip. An old woman stands in front of a bathroom mirror. She is looking at herself; it's Rebecca. She uses the mirror as a way to talk to herself, an attempt to convey a message to her future self.
"Listen I know that you're scared, but you can't keep doing this to yourself. We've done this so many times, there's nothing wrong with change. Change means moving forward; you cannot cling to the past, that will only keep you chained down."
Rebecca's past self looks intently into the mirror as she speaks to herself. The present-day Rebecca, receiving the message, feels the warmth and comfort of familiar words from a time long gone.
"It's all a part of life; everything changes at some point. It's time we make that change and end this madness of following the same old safe life path. So please Rebecca don't go through the left door again.. As Dad once said, change is hard because people overestimate the value of what they have and underestimate the value of what they may gain by giving that up."
Its job done and the message received, the pain in her mind subsides as the memory fades, returning to just another part of her cognition.
"I'm right... it's time."
She says this as a subtle smile crosses her face, recalling the words she had said to herself-rather, the words her father had once spoken to her.
She composes herself, before without a word more heads for the right door.
"Well now this is unexpected.." Death says with a look of disappointment on his face.
She stands in front of the right door, something she has never done before. Reaching out, she grasps the handle. Thoughts of whether she is making the right decision or acting too rashly race through her mind.
However, to her, it is too late to question it anymore. After all this is what she truly wants. She takes a deep breath and pulls back on the handle. As the door opens, light leaks through the opening.
The door, fully open, reveals a sheen of light that fills the interior space. Looking into the light, she feels an overwhelming sense of warmth and comfort-a feeling that everything is going to be okay.
"There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious statistic. Well done, you've beaten me.. On to the next one."
He says with a look of disappointment at losing, but with a faint hint of respect on his face, he then slowly disappears into the shadows, as if he were never there.
Rebecca crosses the threshold of the door and steps into the light of the unknown. The door closes behind her, leaving an empty room with a black-and-white checkered tile floor, white marble walls, and two doors waiting silently for their next guest.
Rebecca walks into a lively, grassy field. She sees blue skies and tall buildings in the distance. She looks down and notices that she is wearing an elegant blue sun dress.
She grasps the fabric to inspect it, only to realize that her hands are no longer the same old, withered ones she had grown accustomed to. They are young and smooth. She touches her face-no wrinkles or sagging. She is no longer an old lady; she is how she was in her early thirties.
"I was wondering when you'd show up"
Rebecca hears a familiar voice she has not heard in a very long time. She turns to see a man who appears to be in his early thirties as well, with short black hair, wearing a white dress shirt and tan khaki pants.
"That's very rude of you, Rebecca, to keep us all waiting for so long."
Tears begin to fill Rebecca's eyes as she realizes the reality of what is happening and the real truth behind the right door.
"Dad!.."
Tears stream down her face like waterfalls as she struggles to hold herself together. Her father approaches and embraces her tightly.
"I told you that I'd always be there for you.. I've missed you so much squeaker."
He extends his hand out to her. "Let's go home, your mother and everyone is waiting for you."
Rebecca nods at her father, she takes his hand, and holds it firmly as they walk across the field toward the buildings in the distance.