So here's what happened. I opened my eyes and the first thing I thought was:
Wow! This is too bright.
I remember choking... On instant noodles.
Did someone help me? Was this a hospital?
Being dead didn't enter my mind, maybe because I was still not ready to leave my loved ones. When that thought came to my mind, I thought of Eric, my grandson.
I tried to sit upright but realized I was standing at the door entry.
So that was already weird. Because in my memory, I was on the floor. And now I was… at the door. Standing. Like I just arrived somewhere late and I'm pretending it's fine.
I was in a sort of government office.
Yes. Government office.
The kind you don't choose to go to. The kind you endure. Have you ever been to a government office when you're already tired? Now imagine you're tired and you don't even know if you're alive.
A guard in a white overall was looking at me, waiting.
Then I realized he was waiting for me to take a queue card and sit down.
Okay. So not a hospital. Not home. I was also sure this wasn't heaven.
Queue card.
I looked around. The room was painted white and seemed even brighter because of the fluorescent lights.
Because what kind of afterlife is this? The kind with fluorescent lights and plastic chairs?
So, I decided to go with the flow and took one number with a sign that read "waiting time: unknown".
Unknown?
How I missed my mobile at a time like this.
Because if I had my phone, at least I could message my daughter. Or check the time. Or do anything except sit here like a lost applicant.
Before I sat down, I looked around.
Everywhere, there were people wearing white.
White?
I realized I was also wearing white.
So, did that mean I was dead?
I didn't scream. I didn't faint. I didn't even cry. I was just looking at my clothes like… Is this really the outfit we chose for this moment? Plain white. No pockets. No bag. No phone. No dignity.
I peeked at one of the personnel in the center of the room. A man in white. Tired and bored at the same time.
That was the first thing I noticed about him. Tired. Bored. Like he's been doing this for a long time, like this office never ends, like even the dead have paperwork.
Then he called a number.
"Case Number 29"
He said it the way people say things they've said ten thousand times.
The people panicking stopped and silence followed, everyone looking at their numbers, so I also looked at my number and realized it was my number being called.
Of course it was. Because when you don't want attention, it finds you.
The second time he called, I stood up and went to the center table.
I bowed first in respect before I sat, ready for whatever I didn't know.
Because I didn't know where I was, but I knew how to respect a tired government worker. That part of me still works.
I sat there as he looked at me for a second, then read the file he was holding.
He paused for a second, which made my heart jump.
Then he read it again and looked at me.
What?!
In my mind, I was asking why he was looking as if something was wrong with me.
I was curious. What was in my file that made him pause.
If this is orientation, why did I have paperwork?
And the man in white kept looking at the file. Then at me. Then back.
Like I was an error that walked in by itself.
Like I wasn't supposed to be here, but here I was anyway.
And I didn't know what to do with my hands. So, I just sat there.
Waiting.
The waiting was unnerving. I was really not a fan of waiting.
"Ah, excuse me, Sir — were there problems with my record?"
He looked at me for a moment then returned reading my file as if he was trying to decide what to say.
"Was it because of the noodles? Well, you see—"
I was about to fire a litany of reason when he raised his hands for me to stop.
"Marisol Sanchez. Deceased. Cause: nutritional asphyxiation. Designation pending. Anomaly flagged for review."
My mouth was wide open when he started reading, reciting what was on my file. The words floated as if they were some alien language. I couldn't understand any of what he was saying.
"Wait! Stop right there".
I was so exasperated — is that even the right word? It felt too small. I was exasperated and tired and possibly dead and none of those words were big enough.
He stopped mid sentence, which gave me courage to continue.
"Can you speak in human language, please?"
I caught a flicker of surprise—then mild annoyance. He put my file record down and looked straight at me while saying:
"It means something had gone wrong. Your case was pending and awaiting review, waiting time unknown."
As his words registered, too many questions floated in mind. So many whys and hows.
I was thinking if my death was a mistake maybe I could still go back.
Then Eric, my grandson's face, flashed in my mind. A sliver of hope. Maybe…
"Are you saying my time wasn't up yet but I was here already dead. Right?"
He didn't nod. He just stared at me like I was a fool asking what was evident.
"Then could I go back?"
He looked at me like I was an anomaly.
"Now. You wait."
He pointed to a place in the room, looked past me and said,
"NEXT".