The Scots

You know, sometimes you're looking into the light so long. You wonder if it'll ever fade. So you spend days thinking up ways to avert your eyes. Maybe a carnival ride. Maybe a midnight showing of the latest Apatow film. Tonight's aversion was of a different kind.

Morning had been around for a while. I got out of bed. The time was 10:37. I was late for work. I got there, and was fired on the spot. Sucks. I took my bike back home. Riding along a busy street. The sun was doing its job today. It was 99 degrees outside. I was sweating through my Chucks. Inside the 7/11 I caught the eye of a pretty girl. She smiled at me, took a sip of her drink, and and rolled her eyes. I bought a doughnut, and red bull. Back on my bike. My heart began to burn. I hadn't taken my medication this morning. Shit. So I made my way back home. I was pretty far out. It would be a while. The burning in my chest spread throughout my torso. I began to cry. I could feel the tears running across the side of my face. The cool air from riding my bike fast enough cooled the tears on my face. Comfort. I was down the block from my house when I bailed. I lost control of my legs, and arms. The burning was insane. I couldn't breathe. I passed out.

I woke up. The house wasn't mine. Someone must've picked me up. There was a man wearing a red, and black plaid kilt next to me. He began to play the bagpipes. I couldn't speak or I'd ask him to stop. Three more men in red, and black plaid kilts entered the room. They spoke to me, but if felt like my ears had blown out. Just fuzz. The older one put a pair of headphones on my head. Bagpipes. The short one, I nicknamed him Fred because he looked a lot like a miniature Fred Flintstone, spoke to me. "You're dead, kid," he said with a smile. "Good thing though. This is something different, how's that?" I felt my chest burn again; this time for a very different reason. The other old Scotsman I called Tall Barney for reasons which you could assume said, "Your heart exploded, son. Literally..." he put a fist to his chest, and opened it quickly. "Well...what do I do?" I asked trying to keep my cool. What's the use in freaking?

I got out of the bed. The bagpipes were still playing. I went outside, and felt the sun on my skin. It was warm. I walked out into the street. The suburbs. Every house looked the same. That's when I noticed my outfit: cream colored cardigan, white t-shirt, and khakis. All the neighbors were out taking in the sun. Cream colored cardigans, white t-shirts, and khakis as far as the eye could see. What the hell was going on? Where was I? Where was I really? This couldn't be hell. It sure isn't heaven. I'm not sure if purgatory has the proper PR team to pull all these upper middle class abodes. A women in a cream colored robe approached me, "I hope you're comfortable while you're here. You'll be here for quite sometime." She smiled, and walked off. "Hey! Where the hell is this place exactly?" I screamed. She turned around, and chuckled. Then she took her pointer finger, and pushed it against the space right above her eyebrow. She turned around, and walked away.

I could hear bagpipes. The sky opened up, and the rain came down. The world was dark. Then there I was. Standing next to my casket. Surrounded by the people I loved, and the people I loved were crying. My cream colored cardigan, and khakis were now a black suit with a silver tie. The rain fell. The bagpipes played on. I could feel reality shaking around me. I felt death. I felt remorse. I felt the love of the world running through my blood. Then it was gone.

I moved through big blue drapes. I walked through one after the other, and came upon a room with a single cubicle. In the cubicle sat a man that looked a lot like my father. He asked me to take a seat. So I did. He held up a gun, and asked, "good or bad?" I responded with, "bad." He wrote something on a sheet. Then he touched my hand, and I felt this wave of remorse. I saw war, and natural disaster, and heartbreak. I felt sick. "Good or bad?" "Bad. Definitely bad," I said. Then he took out a stethoscope, and asked me to lift up my shirt. He put it to my chest, and it felt strange, it was warm. I felt this intense joy, and understanding, and beauty, and knowledge, and I felt my family, and my friends. Then he pulled it away, and it was gone. "Good or bad?" "...The best." The entire time the man didn't look me in the eye. He wrote on his clipboard, and told me to proceed through the drapes on the north end. I got up, thanked him, and walked out.

I walked through the drapes. I could hear humming, almost like an overheating computer. I reached the end of the drapes. In the table in the center of the room there was a hamburger with french fries, and a soda. The sign next to it said "Please Eat" with a smiley face emoticon. So I ate it.

The room was bright. I felt sick. The light was burning my eyes. My ears were popping. I saw Short Fred, and Tall Barney. They were wearing ties. They were smiling. Barney got real close to me, "wake up, boy." I shut my eyes tight, and opened them again. My hands were small. I felt weak. My stomach hurt. I was hungry. I cried. I screamed. Someone picked me up. My hunger was relieved. I was quiet. I was content. I was peaceful.