I was jogging… I think. I feel the sweat on my body, but that's the only thing I can feel.
What happened to me? Why am I lying on the side of the road completely immobile? Why are my eyes only able to obey my wishes to move?
I can see the sky. Gray clouds have overpowered the sun. It looks like rain.
Did it rain? Is that why I'm wet and not because of sweat? Had I really been jogging or is that something my mind produced on its own?
I can't remember. My mouth is dry and I can't swallow nor can I lick my dry and cracking lips.
Where the hell am I? What the hell happened? Why are there no cars on the road that can help me?
I need help… I think. My left eye fills with something other than tears. I know because it's red.
Could it be blood? Am I bleeding? Where am I bleeding from? Did I hit my head? Am I dying? What could have happened to me to make me bleed into my left eye?
It's hard to breathe. My chest feels like it's caving in and crushing my heart and ribs. If my ribs are even still in tact. This is bad. I don't want to die, but… I think… I think it's come to that. I think this is the end.
This isn't the way I thought I would go. I wanted to be old with kids and grandchildren. I have neither kids nor grandchildren… I'm not even married.
God, if you're listening, please afford me the right to love someone and be loved back before I die. Please? I beg you. Don't let me die here. Not now. Please! Someone help me!
I try yelling, but nothing comes out. No sound. No whisper.
No cars have gone by and I'm starting to think none will.
Realization. I'm going to die out here on an empty road. I may not be found for days. I don't know if I have identification on me. I can't remember.
Breathing is becoming even more difficult than before. I can't feel my heart beating anymore. It must be so weak that I can't feel it.
Any minute now. Any minute I'm going to die.
I can't ask forgiveness from God for my sins because I can't remember any sins.
I want to cry, but I can't. No tears will come.
Please! I need help!
A miracle. I see someone approaching. A man. My vision is blurred from the red liquid that has now entered both of my eyes, but I'm almost positive it's a man.
Thank God! Please, sir, please help me! I think I'm dying!
"You are dying," the man says.
Did he hear me? Did I speak? I can't remember hearing any sounds come out of my mouth. "You don't need to speak for me to hear you," the man continues.
How can you hear me if I don't speak?
He smiles as he kneels down next to me. I want him to help me not converse with me. I'm dying.
"I am here to help you, Melea," he says.
Melea… that's my name.
How does he know my name? Who is he? Why is he out walking on an empty road?
The man smiles. He's smiling while I'm dying.
"I smile because there are wonderful things waiting for you."
He has some sort of accent, but I can't decide what kind it is because I'm mixing up my countries. I'm very confused and very, very tired.
"Take my hand," he says.
But I can't move. Can't you see that? I'm fucking paralyzed! Please help me!
"I am trying to help you," he says. He seems angry. "All you have to do is reach up… and take my hand."
I don't try to move because I know I can't. My back is broken or maybe it's my neck, which has rendered me numb all over.
I'm so tired… please help me. Please. Please. Please.
The man smiles once again. I feel comfort in this warm smile.
"I can help you, Melea. I want to help you… if you'll let me."
I want to let him, but he wants me to move and I know that I can't. But maybe there is no harm in trying since I know what the outcome will be and I'm dying anyway.
Can you promise I won't hurt myself if I try?
"Yes. I can promise you'll never feel pain ever again."
I try moving my left hand and I see it obeying my orders in my peripheral vision. My arm is lifting, but I can't feel it. I reach out to touch the man's hand and suddenly I can feel. I can feel everything. I can feel his hand touching mine, I can feel my body becoming warm, and I can feel… something I can't explain.
"You can talk, you know," the man says, helping me up to my feet. Now I know the accent… it's English like mine.
"What happened to me?" I ask.
I look down and I think I'm delusional… seeing things. I see myself… my body still lying on the ground. I'm covered with blood and bruises. My usual blonde hair is soaked through with sweat and blood.
I have a knowledge at this moment that I never would have had before. I'm dead. I know this. But I'm not upset about it. I'm happy. I feel wonderful.
"I told you," the man says. I look at him standing next to me.
"Who are you?" I ask.
"You may call me Metatron."
He rolls his eyes.
"The voice of God," he says annoyingly.
"God," he finishes, nodding. "You didn't know."
I shake my head embarrassed. I feel as if I should have known who he was.
"It's alright," he tells me. "You ready to go then?"
"Go where?" He smiles.