City Lights

The skyline looks so small and insincere from up here. All of the lights from all of the windows look like distant stars. The ground below me looks even more distant. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. And then I’m flying, no, hurdling towards the ground. It doesn’t look so distant now and comes all too quickly. 

Once I land, flat on my stomach, there is stillness. What I feel isn’t exactly pain, more like stinging pressure around my whole body. My vision is black and white and red, and in the distance, I can see a man darker than the deepest part of space. He is walking towards me. Stalking me like I am some prey of his, like he’s ready to devour me. Maybe he is. On an instinct I move to stand, astounded at the fact that I can. 

I cannot see this man’s features. He moves and acts like a shadow. The only thing I can make out about him is that he is tall. So tall that he towers. I look around and see nobody except for him. This man stalks his way over to me and I can feel the air surrounding us shift. It gets colder and colder. Finally, he is close enough to look at. Really look at. Horrifically, he is featureless. Underneath his staunch black hood is a big and empty void. 

“Hello?” I ask the being tentatively. “Who are you? What do you want?”

His voice comes from all around. From nowhere and everywhere at the same time. “Why are you trying to die?”

“Excuse me,” I respond, because this can’t be right. 

“You want to die, don’t you?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Don’t get short with me,” His voice seeps through the air and as it gets louder the air only seems to get thinner. “I know you want to die.” 

I say nothing. 

“Not only do you want to die,” the voice continues, “You just tried.”

“What do you mean?” I ask the being. “I’m down here talking to you.”

The being steps away for a moment, bringing his hand up to his non-face and turning around. “Wow, this is starting to annoy me.” He turns back towards me points a gloved finger in my direction. He asks, “How do you think you got down here?” And then a moment later, “Who do you think I am?”

“I don’t know.”

“So you’re trying to tell me you don’t know how you got from that roof down to this ground and you don’t know how this random man without a face or voice is talking to you?”

I am silent for a second. I simply look down and nod.

“And how do you describe that right there?” The man points down to the ground behind me. Though, less at the ground and more what is on the ground, me. My body is shriveled and broken, looking less like a human body and more like a pile of fleshy parts with no real form. The sight is gruesome and horrifying and brings tears to my eyes. I slap a hand to my face and step back, immediately turning around and looking away.

“Look lady,” He starts up again, “I’m on a very tight schedule here. I don’t have all night here, and I know you’re not an idiot. All I came here to do is put your soul back into your body, but your cluelessness is making it very frustrating for me to do that.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Alright let me spell it out for you then. I work with two types of souls. The first type tend to know they’re dead and all I have to do is scoop them up and bring them to the afterlife. The second type are simply separated from their body for a little while and need a little help being put back. You are one of these and we need to get you back into that.” He points from me to my pile of flesh as if to prove some horrible sort of point. It makes my blood boil.

“But that isn’t fair.”

“What about it isn’t fair, sweetheart? It’s just the way it is.”

“I wanted to die. I was supposed to die!”

“Eh. See that’s where you’re wrong. You aren’t supposed to die today. You are supposed to live today. Your death day isn’t any time soon.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense. How am I supposed to live?”

“That isn’t my domain, sweetheart. My name isn’t Life, I am Death. I make the rules about death, and your page in my book says when you die, and that day just isn’t today.”

“Why can’t you just put me in the ground? Look at me, I’m already halfway there anyways.” 

“It’s not that simple.”

“Well, how the hell am I supposed to live then!” I scream. “How am I supposed to live with my parents beating me every day? With my classmates making fun of my bruises, calling me a slut for how they wrap around my legs and my throat? My siblings who condone it? If I am supposed to live today who’s to say I can’t just try again tomorrow?”

“Listen here. I don’t care what you do. I don’t care what happens to you but know this. Your death day isn’t today, or tomorrow, or even this year. You have to survive. There is literally no other choice for you besides that. You can yell and you can scream all you want, but next time I’ll keep your soul out here for a week before putting it back!”

“It isn’t fair,” I cry, air barely making its way into my chest.

“It has to be,” The man says. “There is no other way.”

I don’t respond. I can’t. What else is there to say. All I can do is look up into the night sky, staring at the stars shining in the sky and at the city lights shining all around. It feels silly, to find beauty in a moment like this one. I freely let my tears roll down my cheeks, which are now red from the cold.

“I don’t know if this helps,” Death begins, “But your parent’s death is tomorrow morning. They’re supposed to get into a car accident at three am.” 

“How will they die?” I ask, feeling like this is a fair question for someone about to become an orphan.

“They will drive under the influence and get into a head on collision going 70 mph through the heart of the city.”

I lower my head back down to the ground again, and then to my body again. “Can you guarantee that I will live a good life if I go back there?”

“No. That’s not up to me.” There is silence for a moment as the air stills again. My crying stops as if I’m comforted by this. I really shouldn’t be. “However, I can guarantee that if you go back there and do everything you can to have a good life, you will.”

“Will I really?” 

“The human spirit is stronger than you think, sweetheart. You can do anything you set your mind to. If you truly believe you can live a good life, you will. I’m sure of it.”

I suck in another breath. I close my eyes and let another tear escape, though this one is much smaller and warmer than the ones before. I open them again and look at the stars one more time. 

“Ok,” I say. “I’m ready, just please don’t let it hurt once I’m in there.”

“I’ll do my best,” The man says.

He takes one of my hands into his and sets me down onto the pavement. It is easier to look at myself now. To respect the decision I’ve made. A part of me believes that this had to happen. That my parents will die trying to get to me tonight, though that’s assuming they care enough. Another part of me knows that it is something I will always regret. A little sliver of my heart will always be blackened by this. 

I close my eyes and the man bends down in front of me. “I hope you live a beautiful life,” he says, and almost pushes me into my body. The only thing I can feel is coldness seeping into me from the ground. My cheek is so cold against the sidewalk. I lift my eyes open slowly though all I see is red. There are people around me now, in various stages of shock and dread. In the distance, I can hear an ambulance on its way to come and scrape me off the ground. At least I don’t feel any pain. Death did his best to keep that promise.

by Emma Blazer

My name is Emma Blazer, and I’m currently studying to be a math teacher here at UAlbany. I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember but the stress of college has made it hard to keep going as much as I would like to. “City Lights” is a story I wrote at the very end of the Fall semester when stress was at its peak after a moment of inspiration, and a much-needed break from studying for finals. I hope to inspire other people to write and get creative, and maybe even entertain whoever might read my stories.