I woke in the morning to the feeling of warm sunlight shining on me through the windows. My entire being felt somehow lighter, like I wasn't always dragging my feet, weighed down by bricks on my shoulders. Weighed down by my sins. Instead, I was lifted by my good deeds. As if I was a feather, walking felt like floating, running felt like flying, everything just felt light, free, good. Better.
I never would have known what Hell really was if I was not given Heaven to compare. Having woken up there immediately after dying, I never realized that I was dragged down by my wrongs, given extra weight to bear every minute of being there. It just seemed normal. But here in Heaven, one's sins are forgiven, dropped off, gone, and they are free to spread their wings. Here I am free.
I still couldn't go ten minutes without remembering Kris though. I remembered the way his eyes were filled with betrayal as he died in my arms, the way his manipulative eyes had used me, the way he had become heartless upon arrival in Hell, the way that darkness was smaller but always visible in his life, the way he used to smile when he was alive, the way he was a carefree teenager living for the moment, the way he used to caress my face and smile at me like no one else existed, the way he had made me fall in love from day one, the way he had held his hand out to me that fateful day.
I still remembered every moment clearly, could live it all out right here right now.
Kris had happened upon a girl he had seen at school before, but never had conversed with. She was a year younger than he, a freshman at his school, who hung out with a completely different crowd. Their paths didn't really cross often. But that didn't mean he didn't see her. How could he not? When her hair so brightly resembled cotton candy.
Most people found her hair obnoxious, told her to dye it a different color, but he liked it. He knew what it meant to her. He knew it meant she had control over her own life. She made her decisions, not her parents, not society, and most certainly not those kids at school. Her hair, her head, her mind, it all belonged to her and no one else. He understood. That's why he dyed his hair black.
But here she was, knees scraped, long white socks from her uniform covered in dirt, long pink hair in her face, trying to pick up her books from the ground. And there he was, walking home with his best friend, merely passing by.
He could have just passed by.
But he didn't. He stopped while his friend, never one to notice his surroundings, continued on for a few steps. Realizing the empty space beside him, Nolan turned and asked, "Kris?"
But Kris didn't hear him. He was kneeling down, beside the girl with the pink hair, picking up some of her books, rather uncharacteristic of him. Her see-through eyes found it difficult to see through him, getting caught in the deep sea of blue that fixed its gaze on her. With a simple smile he stood with her books in his arm and held out his hand to help her up.
"Hey," he had said. "I'm Kris."
"I'm Daisy," I whispered, returning to the present. Kris hadn't always been evil, at least not with me. As he reached his lowest place, he turned to manipulating me as he did everyone else, but I still had no doubt his love for me was genuine. If nothing else was real, that was.
If nothing else, at least I could remember the goodness and purity in his love. That gave me the strength to get up and begin my new afterlife in Heaven. That gave me the will to continue.
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