The Death of Esther Wright

“Esther?” Alyssa attempted to rouse her friend from her musing, but Esther was too deep in thought for that. She was lost in her secret; on the outside she was a perfect Christian girl but, in her head, she was lost in a fantasy. She had always loved fantasy books as child, Harry Potter, Oz, Narnia, Percy Jackson and her love of fantasy only grew. So much so that she had neglected to read the passage for the Bible study she was currently in and had instead read several chapters of V.E. Schwab’s A Conjuring of Light. Fantasy was easier to ingest, than the Bible sometimes. But Esther knew it was wrong to neglect one’s Bible. At least that was what she was told. Something inside her questioned it. But she wasn’t ready to face that side of herself, yet. She turned her focus back onto the Bible study just in time to see Alyssa making a show of attempting to break her from her reverie. Alyssa knew from previous experiences that when Esther was in such state it was best to not startle her. So, she was just flapping her hands about aimlessly and quietly hoping to get her attention.

Esther apologized for zoning out. Looking abashed. Alyssa reassured her that she didn’t mind.

“You didn’t read the passage, did you?” Alyssa asked in a nonjudgmental tone, her face full of loving understanding.

“No, I didn’t.” Esther whispered and looked down at her bible, she had cracked the spine once, now dust had settled on its pages.

“Well let’s read it now. How about you read it?" Alyssa suggested with a smile.

Alright, I will.” Esther cleared her throat and began reading the thin shimmery pages.

"Romans chapter three verse ten.

As it is written:

There is no one righteous, not even one, there is no one who understands. There is no one who seeks God. All have turned away; they have together become worthless; there is no one who does good not even one. Their throats are open graves; their tongues practice deceit. The poison of vipers is on their lips.” Their mouths are full of cursing and bitterness. Their feet are swift to shed blood; ruin and misery mark their ways, and the way of peace they do not know. There is no fear of God before their eyes.” Esther finished, her thoughts a whirlwind of shame, boredom and confusion. What good was reading that anyway?

“Mmm, it’s so thought provoking, isn’t it? No one is righteous no not one. Everyone is prone to wanting to live in their own world, so they lie to themselves and others to achieve that." Alyssa mused her face deep and thoughtful, with an air of suggestiveness, as if she was trying to hint with her expression that Esther should deeply consider the reading. Esther knew to not take Alyssa too seriously, especially since her prophecy regarding Eshter's marriage was still proving to be untrue. Alyssa always had a way of thinking that never entirely matched the original intent of scripture yet, in truth most Bible studies and theologies were like that. Esther would learn this soon enough, the folly of man's understanding of the great mystery. One’s own interpretation of verse's that were never written for them originally, could prove exceptionally harmful. Perhaps this was another reason Esther had failed to read the Bible. Too many conflicting interpretations of implications on morality. Or perhaps it was something else. Whatever it was Esther needed fresh air, and a chai tea latte. She grabbed a chai from Bluebeard's, she loved how fragant their chai was.

Esther went for a walk after grabbing the chai in Wright Park, a fitting place considering her last name. The park was well over a hundred years old and had six hundred varieties of trees according to metro Parks website. Many of the trees were planted by important historical figures. Esther seemed to remember that one of the Roosevelts had planted a tree there. Considering the history, she made several pauses reading the placards of the various trees. Children ran past her as she read giggling and playing some inventive game of tag with flowers. Being spring the tulip tree was blooming, Eshter stopped to admire the flowers. And heard the children's father presumably scolding his children about not plucking flowers off the tree, he seemed concerned for their safety considering that the children likely had to climb the tree to get them. Gravel crunched as she continued to walk and surveyed the other trees each a different species some were pine, others were maple, some were species she wasn’t sure of, but they all fascinated her. A woman who seemd frigid to Esther was walking her dog, a majestic brindle greyhound. A homeless man was taking a much-needed rest on one of the benches. Esther smiled at him awkwardly trying to remember the least of these while also remembering her dad saying, that they all were drug addicts. Behind the man, a group of friends were picnicking, and one yelled at the other, "I'm not a bitch. I'm a hoe!" And proceeding to flip their hair back dramatically. Esther wasn't sure of what to think. But she smiled at them too, internally wishing she could join in their shenanigans yet knowing she was also still uncomfortable with words like hoe. As uncomfortable as humanity sometimes made her, Esther loved people, especially seeing people living their lives. People watching may be an odd hobby, but it was what she loved beside reading, especially since she couldn't have what any of these people had. At least she had been told her whole life, that her life wasn't her own. That she had to live it for a reason, the reason being God. These thoughts were brewing in her subconscious barely formed into words. But they translated themselves into actions, like reading fantasy books instead of the Bible, looking forward to her walks instead of study, and more that she wouldn't admit to herself yet.

Esther strolled along the bridge over the duck pond and stopped seeing ducklings following their mama. She smiled and sipped her chai tea latte. Grabbing coffee or tea and walking after her Bible studies with Alyssa was becoming a regular habit. In fact, she often looked forward to her walk more than her time with Alyssa.

She enjoyed long strolls filled with reflection and people watching.

No one is righteous, no not one. Esther thought hard on this, but the wisdom that scripture once gave her seemed lost. Esther turned her head across the pond towards a bench she was able to aimlessly glance at the people and observe them without drawing attention. She noticed two men she hadn't seen already sitting on a bench one was a young man and the other was an older man and they were conversing animatedly with hushed tones.

Esther couldn’t hear them, but she was intrigued.

If she could have heard them; this is what she would have heard:

“You know it’s creepy right?” The old man turned to look at the young man as he chastising him.

“It’s not like I’m stalking her, I am simply awaiting her death. I have sense about these things.” The young man responded with annoyance.

“I know, but with you reapers it’s uncanny how you just know someone will die.”

“I’m not a reaper," the young man responded with annoyance, “I simply greet the dead. Sometimes I make friends with them, or I provide their families with comfort. It all depends. “

“Like a reaper.”

“Reapers do so to free their souls from the eternal torment of their past guilt . I have no such obligations.”

“Right right, let me see your mark. Then I’ll know you’re not a reaper.”

“This again, marks are private! You're one of the only fools I know who shows theirs off so proudly.”

“But it’s not like reapers don’t proclaim they’re reapers every step they take, you know because you know,” the old man had a self assured look on his face, “and I know you’re a reaper. The reason I ask to see your mark is that you insist you’re not a reaper. I wouldn’t ask if you said you were one.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“Then let me see it.”

“No.” The young man glared.

The old man would have continued insisting but Esther was looking their way with intense curiosity.

“She can see us.”

“Then she’s nearly dead, however it will happen. it will happen soon.”

Esther couldn’t help but be intrigued. The two men were clearly discussing something of great importance to them. The old man wore a worn tweed suit and an equally worn matching cap. The young man was wearing distressed skinny jeans which matched his black leather jacket. Esther couldn’t admit to herself that she found him attractive, wouldn’t. But despite her interest she had to go home. She made her way past the men, attempting to hide her intrigue and went to cross Division Avenue. As the walk sign turned on and the voice beckoned her to walk, she set out. But the all too familiar sound of brakes coming to a screeching halt rang through the air, except the car didn’t manage to come to a halt in time. Screams erupted from the parkgoers the woman walking the greyhound rushed to see if she was okay, screaming for someone to call an ambulance. The father shielded his children's eyes while he called emergency services. The friends looked horrified while the one who called themselves a hoe ran after the culprit who was already attempting to get out of the vehicle. But despite the valiant park goers' efforts, Esther died.

“So that’s how she died.” The old man drew in a sharp breath." At least people helped her, at least people cared, unlike me."

The young man looked sympathetic, he knew how this man had died, it was a horrible way to die. "Time for me to find her.” he said woefully.

"When you find her in the ether don't scare the living shit out of her like you did with me." The old man smiled sadly.

"I make no promises."

"Bets are that she think's you're a demon."

"Closer to that than reaper in some ways."

"Not to me you aren't now go find her."

"Will do."

Esther knew she was dead. But something was off, she didn’t feel more holy, or utterly content, or sinless. She felt the same. She felt broken. She started to take in her surroundings or lack of them more like. She realized all she could see was white, no definition existed within the color she tried to look down but she realized she had no form. Everything was white, and she was nothing.

“Why God!? Why!?”Esther started crying and screaming.

Logically she shouldn’t be able to do either of those things but she could all the same.

“I cannot answer that for you.” The young man from the park held his hand out. Suddenly she could see her own hand as her body emerged from the white ether. It was distorted but it slowly grew to the definition she was used to.

“Who are you?” Esther recognized him from the park, she again was reminded that she found him attractive. She felt her cheeks become ever so slightly rosy. She quickly reminded herself that she was dead, and so she had to think on higher things. Not some cute guy. But she was dead wasn’t she? In theory her mind should already be on higher things, but here she was crushing on some guy. She then realized that she didn’t know his name.

“Your name!?” She sputtered awkwardly, “ What is it?”

“Amon, you can call me Amon.. Come on let’s get you out of here. The white ether dissolved back into Wright park. It had been several minutes from her death so the chaos was dying down from the attempted hit and run. The man had been chased down. Paramedics had bagged her body. The woman who was walking her greyhound was answering the questions of a police officer. The other park goers were curiously looking on and murmuring.

“That’s my body? But I’m right here. Can people walk through me?” Esther proceeded to test the theory before being answered. And in doing so she ran straight into the woman who had been walking the greyhound.

“ Oh I’m sorry!” Esther apologized profusely.

“Oh that’s alright, you know you remind me of someone… can’t quite put my finger on it.”

“I’m Esther.”

“Esther hmmm.” The woman thought long and hard it seemed but as she attempted to respond her face became blank much like when one has a word on the tip of their tongue. She simply couldn’t respond.

“She can’t recognize you no one can unless they’re about to die.” Amon said matter of factly.

“But.” Esther ran to a nearby storefront and looked in the glass. She looked like herself.

“People in the world you lived in cannot recognize the dead, they simply lack the ability. Some humans can learn, but it’s rare they stay sane. It’s unfortunately a stressful thing to be able to communicate with the dead.”

“I guess it must be, but why bring me here? What is there for me here if people can’t recognize me?”

“I thought you might want to go home, when you die you end up in the ether it's difficult to get out by yourself so people like myself lend a helping hand. Noe you're in between the land of the living and the ether, it conforms to your timeline and your preference it also blends with the world of the living.That is if you can master it, and if the reapers see fit. Some people are left in the place I found you, the ether. Although not everyone can interact with their old world, that is rare.”

“Why can I?”

“There must be role for you to play. Which before you ask what it is, that is for you to find out.”

“So,I have some special purpose in my death?”

“You can look at it that way or it’s just a fluke, we can’t know until we try to find what you’re supposed to be, if anything.”

“You seem pessimistic about this.”

“I assure you I’m not. I’m just being cautious, I can’t assume you’re destined for something without being sure.”

“What would make you sure?”

“Well for starters we have to make sure that you have no regrets. Sometimes that’s why you can still interact with the living.”

“So what like, we go on a quest to see what I regret in life?”

“I guess.”

“But I regret nothing.”

“Ha! Sorry but I don’t believe that. Everyone has regrets the question is if they’re significant enough to leave you attached to the living world.”

“Seriously, I don’t have any.”

“Are sure or are just saying that because admitting you have them means you didn’t live how you wanted?”

“I…”Esther knew he was right. Ugh, how is he so right about me and I’ve only known him for ten minutes. Esther remained silent as they went back to her studio. Esther suddenly realized that she was coming home with a guy. No matter how much he said that people wouldn’t recognize her she still felt awkward. She didn’t know why he was taking her home. But she couldn’t be sure that there wasn’t something untoward, she had only known him for a few minutes. However she was dead, and everyone that she had tried to interact with on the walk back to her house seemed to be unable to completely process her existence if she did even exist. So she had to make do with this stranger albeit handsome. Her mind started to wander, there always had been a side to her that wanted to break the rules and be a bad girl. Or least what she had been told was bad and sinful. She let herself indulge in the fantasy that Amon wasn’t some terrifying grim reaper but was instead just an attractive man she met at a bar. But once she started to imagine just kissing him him let alone anything else,she felt incredibly ashamed. Her stomach wrenched. I shouldn’t be thinking like this.

Amon interrupted her line of thought.

“You’re quiet. You were asking any and every question earlier now you seem lost in thought.”

“Oh… Uhhh. I was just thinking how weird it is that right after I die I’m walking home with a guy. This isn’t exactly how I pictured the afterlife.”

“I’m sure that some people picture it exactly like that.” Amon smiled. “But no I have no intentions of taking you home like that.” He smirked meaningfully knowing the question she was trying to ask.

“Oh phew, I wasn’t sure exactly what was going on here.”

“That’s fair, if there’s anything I know about the world of the living, men tend to be very entitled to the point that asking questions about expectations is probably wise.”

“Yeah, I honestly don’t know what to do in that situation, I’m a virgin and I don’t believe in that before getting married. I would prefer to just ask about it outright but…” Her thoughts trailed to the wrench in her stomach, the shame. She realized that she was saying too much to a stranger. “Sorry, that’s a lot of TMI.”

“No,no… trust me I’ve heard a lot worse. Also that’s why I’m here,to listen and help you adjust to being dead.”

“Why? Is that your role? Are you like a reaper?” Esther was mentally trying to determine if there was any way to theologically make sense of this with what she had been told about heaven.

“Yes, to an extent although I’m not a reaper really. There are reapers they do the same but they work under an obligation. I have none. I have more freedom than them. I began doing this when…I lost my status.”

“Status?”

“Let’s say my boss and I had a disagreement.”

“Oh about what?”

“How people should be treated.”

“Oh that serious?”

“Yep, unfortunately.”

Esther could sense from his vague answers that she should drop the topic, so she switched to something else.”What can I do? Like would I even be capable of…” Esther tried to say sex, because in theory since she wasn’t sitting at Jesus’s feet all that morality didn’t matter but she instead ended up sputtering out, “intimacy?” Her face matched her embarrassment.

“You mean sex, well yes not really with living people.” He gave her a look that implied it was possible but frowned upon.”Especially since that could turn very predatory very quickly. But with people who live in the ether yes.” He shrugged. “Not the answer you thought you’d get, I imagine.”

“No,” Esther collected her embarrassment from her face as she thought of another question. “So can I eat? Like can I enjoy my chai tea lattes still, actually I’m hungry. How can I be hungry when I’m dead?!” Now she had forgotten her embarrassment and was now thinking of food. A warm hearty stew sounded good right about now. Huh why am I craving my mom’s stew all of a sudden?

“It’s not that uncommon for someone who’s dead to feel hunger. It’s similar to… ah what’s that called? phantom limb pain, when someone who has had an amputation feels pain where the limb used to be. Same idea.”

“So how do I stop it?”

“You eat.” He shrugged.

“So how’s any different than real hunger?”

“You won’t die if you ignore it. Other than that it’s not much different.”

“So it sounds like I’m in the world but I can’t participate with the world in the same way living people do but I can still participate to an extent. Can I be photographed?”

“Yes and no, only some people will see you and be able to recognize you ,people who are dying, reapers,me and probably a few more that I’m forgetting.”

“So, I can be photographed and I can eat.” She avoided saying anything to do with what had embarrassed her. “Do I need sleep, and if I don’t need it can I still sleep?”

“Sleep actually has a place here, less because your body needs it, more because your mind does.” Amon pointed to his forehead. “Your mind can play tricks on you when you haven’t slept.”

Esther kept asking questions until they ended up at her apartment.