Let's talk, shall we?
Today I bring you something a little bit different than usual, no gory horror stories, no lengthy novels, only a short story about, well, you'll see, I don't want to spoil it. Let me know what you thought about it in the comments!
Image source Pixabay
It was an awfully slow night at the bar and I was already drinking my sixth beer, trying to drench my sorrow. I kept telling myself, “just one more”, over and over but it was of no use. You see, my girlfriend, well fiancé to be exact, left me after 5 years for some goddamn yoga instructor with a house on the beach. I know, I know, real cliché. It didn’t make it hurt any less to be honest, just added a comedy part to something that felt like a tragedy. Anyhow, tonight is the night I decided to end it all. I ordered my seventh and last beer and took out a vial of rat poison from my pocket, poured it in gently so no one sees. I put the glass back on the counter and started to stare at the wall in front of me. The usual thoughts that people have before committing suicide swarmed my head: “Will anyone miss me?”, “Will my absence really effect a single person’s life?” and so on. At that moment only my parents came to mind, but I haven’t heard much from them lately either. Everything felt pointless and my mind was set.
I picked up the glass and started bringing it closer to my lips and that’s when I realized that I was so preoccupied with my self-destructive thoughts that I failed to see there was a man sitting on the stool next to me. He seemed, odd. Not physically or anything, just that feeling you get when something is not right. I couldn’t see his face because it was completely covered with a hood. The figure slowly turned to face me and I was baffled to find out that I’m sitting next to myself. The man looked like an older version of me, I was so shocked that I froze completely, just starring into his eyes. After a brief second he smiled and said:
“Let’s talk, shall we?”
I couldn’t utter a single word at that point, even if I wanted to, so my older-self just kept talking instead:
“I remember what this conversation felt like from the other side, can’t blame you for being so freaked out, I reacted the exact same way, it took a while to comprehend everything I’ve heard, everything you’re going to hear from me now. So listen carefully. It isn’t your time to die, there’s a whole life waiting for you ahead, a life full of happiness and joy, with a little grief sometimes, but it’s alright, you’ll get through it. Hell, you’ll become a stronger person than anyone you’ll ever meet! I remember how it felt to be desperate, thinking that nothing else matters, but I was wrong. You see, right now you’re having a vision and it’s not because I’m forcing you to, it’s because you wanted a sign, a reason to keep going. I’m not really you, I’m just some random soul whose life was saved by another at some point in my life and now it’s my time to repay that debt. I only look like you because that’s who you need to see right now, a better version of yourself, an older one that lived a life worth living. Really, it’s complicated to explain everything in detail about how and why this is happening, you just need to accept that it is for now. Someday, hopefully in a very distant future, when you die, your soul will need to help another, living one, before you can move on. Take care, I wish you well.”
I tried to say something, but before a word left my mouth, whatever was happening, stopped. I was sitting alone at the bar, my poisoned beer in hand, starring at the wall. Everyone were still in their place and it seemed like no one else saw anything, like time froze while I was having the conversation. I felt really strange, but somehow convinced that the being I talked to made perfect sense. I felt like things would get better. I took the glass to the toilet and flushed its content. It was time to stop the self-pity, go home and rethink, make something good out of my life.
You see, that whole scenario happened 64 years ago and now I’m 93 years old, laying in a hospital bed, counting down my final days. I’m surrounded by my children, grand children and even grand-grand children. I lived a somewhat great life after getting through the lowest point of it at that bar and it was all thanks to the vision I’ve had. And now, at the very end I really understood that everything that soul told me was true. I knew I was about the die, because deep inside my brain I could hear it, a voice of a random soul, silently screaming for help of anyone willing to listen and it was my turn to help someone before moving on.
My eyelids closed slowly and before I could even take a breath they opened and I found myself standing on the edge of a rooftop, next to some woman I’ve never seen before in my life. But it was okay, because I knew that when she realizes I’m there, she won’t see me for who I am, but for who she wants to and I knew what I needed to do. After a minute of starring down at the streets she turned her head and made eye contact. The shocked look on her face was perfectly normal, after all that’s the same way I looked when it happened to me. So I smiled and said:
“Let’s talk, shall we?”
Hope you enjoyed this story, I'll be writing more short stuff in the future so stay tuned! :)