Your After Death

Nothing is about, what we think it is about. That is life, the unwinding of fate, and the hindsight found only in the future. So many things have begin unexpectedly for me. Some have good out comes, and some have bad. These realities are only known after the fact.

It always starts with the feeling of excitement. This was no different. My heart raced as I saw the yellow package envelope in the mail box. The bulk and the weight of it in my hands, created butterflies in my stomach, as I examine the front of it. My name neatly written on the front, with handwritten that was not known to me. I look next at the sender’s information. The address and the name is foreign to me. My mind buzzes trying to think of why this person would send me this package.

As I entered the house, my mind suddenly becomes fearful. I put the package down. My thoughts swirl with questions, “ Should I open it? Could it be dangerous? Does someone want to hurt me?” I nervously eye the package. Trying to weigh the probabilities. I reach down and trace the edges with my finger. I feel the itch of curiosity, I know it will not let me rest unless I open the package.

I rip open the side of the package my heart racing with the anticipation. I slide my hand in. I feel the smooth surface of a book. I was sent a book. I can feel myself relaxing. This person, who I can not recall, must know me.

I pull the book out. It is black, smooth and soft to the touch. I open the front cover and out falls a piece of paper. It drifts down to the floor. I set the black book down and reach to pick it up. I unfold it and see a letter inside. I breath in as I see the signature at the bottom. My heart feels as if it has stopped, and my stomach jumps to my throat. Micheal Knight. He is echoing in my mind. As if he were here: as if he were alive. I shutter knowing he could not have sent this. It has been months since I saw his funeral announcement in the paper. It has been years since we have spoken. I am far from where he had left me. How can he find me like this in his after death ?

I read the letter every word sound like him. His voice calling out from each crafted sentence. My mind is reeling, as I come to the part in the letter were he tell about the black book. He writes, “ This book will take your dreams and make them true. Something I could not do for you but wanted to very badly. Now that I am gone, I give this to you. Write your wishes on the page, and they will be, changing lives and history.”

I pick up the book. I thumb through the pages. The first ten or so pages have been filled with Micheal’s beautiful small cursive writing. Each sentence is a statement of his desire. His first wish was to travel the world with all expenses paid. That was five years ago. I think back, and remember that was around the last time I saw him. This could be real.

I know there is only one way to find out. I must write a wish. A wish that I could check right away. But what?

I look around to see the paper that I was using to plan my dream vacation to Europe. “One day “, I had thought last night while I crunched the numbers for a 2 month adventure that would cost 20 000 dollars.

I grab the book, and write “ I wish to have 20 000 more in my bank account right now”. With childish hope, I close the book and go over to my computer. I turn it on, and then go to my online banking. I log in and close my eyes as I am taken to my account. 25000 my account balance reads. It worked. The happiness rushing through me, but then stops as I wonder what consequence will come next.