Condemned To Heaven

Heaven was supposed to be paradise. That’s what they’d said, way back then. That’s what the slightly obsessed priests and holy men had preached. Heaven was where we desperately wanted to go when we passed on—if we did good in our lives, we would have no problem reaching that unimaginably wonderful place. That was what they had said, the ones that she had laughed at, ridiculed, but somehow, deep down, had still believed. Of course, it had taken up a minimal amount of space in her mind—she had never speculated much on the fact that heaven might really be hell in disguise. It was something that was not discussed or doubted. When someone spoke the word, it called up images of sparkling fountains, of rosy-cheeked cherubs offering fruits, of flying high above the clouds. Beautiful, desirable things.1

And everything here was desirable, wasn’t it? It was, indeed, aptly named—everything was heavenly. There were all the promised effects: the fruit-bearing cherubs, the trickling fountains that glittered like the sun, and flying was a pastime enjoyed by many. Everything and everyone existed in a state of constant bliss.2

Except Rigel.3

She was one of the few mysteries that hadn’t been stamped out in heaven—simply because she was one of its residents. She was one of the main targets for gossip—though of course none of it was mean or petty, for this was heaven, and therefore an enjoyable experience for all of its inhabitants. She knew of all of it, and most of the curious questions were asked right to her face, though she never volunteered much information as an answer; she hardly said anything that consisted of more than one sentence. However, the interrogators were normally satisfied with whatever insufficient answer they received—one was always satisfied here. Still, the strange, sullen girl remained somewhat of a mystery, subject to much polite speculation amongst the dearly departed. Though she often overheard the conversations, she paid them no mind. None of them were offenses, and even if they had, nothing could faze her in her current state.4

No one ever asked their fellow departed about their past life. It wasn’t courteous, for many of them had horrific pasts or deaths that they were striving to forget. However, there were those who enjoyed talking about their lives on Earth, and it was a popular entertainment.5

Nobody knew anything about Rigel, but their pity went out to her, as they understood that her life had not been a fruitful one. They were correct in their assumption.6

Rigel’s life was not something that she liked to dwell on. Sometimes, though, it was simply inevitable.7

She could remember the night clearly. It had all started when her parents had invited her to go with them to one of their overrated work functions and, though she would much rather be doing something productive, she agreed.8

If only she’d said no. If only she’d had the heart to refuse. Then she would still be alive. She’d still be with him.9

The so-called party had Rigel almost asleep on her feet. The adults were discussing politics, the economy, and other matters for which she had no interest or tolerance. At least they’d treated her like a grown-up, but that meant that their serious, never-seen-a-smile faces were turned on her to grill her about her opinions on the president or the stock market. To most of the questions, Rigel had given pessimistic, grumpy answers, adding unintelligible inserts under her breath when their attention had been turned elsewhere. 10

She could still feel the relief and thankfulness she felt when her parents announced that they were ready to depart for home. She eagerly followed them out of the grand doors of the party building and to their car, hardly noticed their loud, slurred voices and raucous laughter, nor did she make the connection they held with the wineglasses her parents had been clutching the whole night. It was not until much too late that Rigel realized that her parents were in no fit state to be driving.11

Rigel winced as the rest of the unwanted story unfolded for the millionth time in her mind. She could still hear the screech as the tires of the car squealed against the asphalt in an attempt to avoid the colossal eighteen-wheeler that was racing toward their small car at an impossible speed. She heard again the yelled string of cuss words that emitted from her father’s mouth, and her mother’s scream as the truck got rapidly closer. Worst of all, she heard the crash.12

That was one of the worst memories. No words could express the terrible noise that mingled with the three passengers of the minuscule car as the huge truck, its driver’s scared eyes illuminated by the headlights, collided with the vehicle.13

Rigel skipped ahead from that horrendous memory, to another one that was not entirely delightful, either. It was one that she watched from a distance, as an out-of-body experience; the events that had happened after the crash. Tears appeared in her eyes as she watched her parents in their hospital beds, strapped down by bandages that covered their bodies, unconscious and relatively happy. However, their blissful oblivion was shattered as she watched them weeping over her body. It, too, was in a bed, and she could faintly hear the uninterrupted tone of the heart monitor and the terrible message it brought with it. Her parents’ anguished cries settled into a broken harmony with the monotonous tone, two things that were equally sad and hear-wrenching for Rigel. Next was her parents again, this time standing over a black box that looked ominously like a coffin, their eyes red from crying much too often for their own good, dressed all in black; they were just shells of their former selves. She wanted to run to them, comfort them and tell them that it was all right. Of course, that was impossible. She was forced to watch them from far away, watch their pain and feel it in her heart.14

She did regret all this. The fact that her parents blamed themselves for her death. How she hadn’t gotten the chance to say a proper goodbye to anyone. But, most of all, she felt deep regret for leaving him. Her true love.15

Many people had laughed and scoffed at her for saying those last two words. They thought it was preposterous that someone so young had found the person that they wanted to be with for the rest of their lives, but Rigel knew she had. And, well, she really had stayed with him till the end of her life, she thought with bitter sarcasm. But even before her life had been taken from her, she had planned to stay with him always, for they were in love.16

Rigel let her mind slip away to the happier memories of her past life—of course, they all starred him as one of the leading characters. Memories of walking in lush meadows, of talking, of laughing. He had not just been her boyfriend—though that seemed like far too common a word to be used in reference to him. No, he had also been her best friend, the one she came to about all her problems, and he did the same with her. They’d known everything about each other, down to the tiniest detail.17

And now she would never see him again.18

Contrary to popular belief, deceased souls who have gone to heaven cannot look down on their loved ones who still reside on Earth. That job is the responsibility of the higher angels. A mere soul cannot be trusted to not interfere with the events that occur on the planet below. It is a dangerous business changing the course of history, as one wrong word can bring about a hugely disastrous catastrophe, what with the humans’ fragile feelings. However, the happenings on Earth were not kept a secret from its former residents; a message would often be sent concerning the current happenings. Though some of them were in regards to worldwide happenings, some of them were directed to individual people who had requested to have a loved one watched.19

Rigel had never requested one of these updates, as she wasn’t sure she wanted to know where he was in his life. What if he had found someone else? She did want him to be happy, but she didn’t think she could live forever with that knowledge. What if he had gone into deep depression? She shouldn’t be flattering herself this way, but she knew that, if the two positions had been reversed, she would not have eaten or done much since that fateful night for lack of appetite or any emotion at all. If that was the case, she didn’t want to see him. She wanted to remember his smiling face just the way it looked in her last memory of him, happy and joyful to be alive. She did not want to see the blank stare that sometimes invaded her eyes reflected in his. That would be unbearable, and the option of suicide was inconveniently unavailable.20

Then there was the possibility that she almost didn’t dare contemplate. What if he had taken his own life already? When she first came up with this idea, it had filled her with joy, as she figured she’d see him soon. A while later, the dreadful realization that had sent chills through her body had occurred to her. Though it was nearly impossible, the possibility that he had been sent…elsewhere existed. He was an impossibly kind person, but there was the almost microscopic contingency that his pre-planned path had been different. She knew that a place for those who had not led good lives existed; it was whispered about amongst the souls, and every so often there arose the devastating news that someone that had been dear to one of heaven’s inhabitants had been sent there. The recipient of the world-shattering news would suffer grief that was almost unbearable; sometimes, they would disappear for lengthy periods of time, though eventually they would come out of hiding and join the society again, and the event would be forgotten, never to be spoken of again.21

Rigel knew without doubt that, if the unthinkable tragedy had occurred, she would hide away and never come out. She could never rejoin life—or, rather, death—after such a catastrophe had rocked her world. She could spend the rest of eternity in a small, impenetrable bubble of self pity and depression, ignoring the polite calls of her fellow deceased that would surely come; everyone was pitied here, and looking was the good, wholesome thing to do when one needed comfort the most. However, Rigel knew that even heaven must have a dark hole somewhere in which she could take refuge; after all, it was heaven, and therefore enjoyable to everyone. If someone required a dark, cave-like place, one would be provided.22

But that possibility was next to impossible. She still didn’t dare ask, though, because the other options may not be far from whatever truth there was. Whatever the reality may be, her pessimistic way of thinking had her almost believing that it could not be good. She teetered on the brink of sinking into that belief—she was, instead, caught in an unending questioning state as to the answer. Some days, it was all she could do to not ask the angels to watch him. Common sense and the fact that she did not want to be depressed to the point of cutting herself kept her from fulfilling the desire.23

Rigel shook her head. She’d had enough speculation for today, and the sound of the closest fountain was beginning to sound uncannily like his voice. Rubbing her eyes, she detached herself from the bench she’d been resting on and stretched. Ignoring the invitations to join the little group that had conjugated in a circle on the other side of the courtyard, she delved into the labyrinth of beautiful gardens that snaked through a large area of land. She’d spent long, reflective hours just meandering through the maze, sometimes hardly even noticing the loveliness that surrounded her. It was one of the few places that she could express her true feelings, as there were no sympathetic souls to send their hearts out to her. These gardens were where she spent the majority of her time.24

Now, as she wandered through their awe-inspiring perfection, she really looked at it for the first time. It really was impossibly beautiful. This time, she stopped and inspected each perfect detail, marveling at everything she passed.25

That was when a great realization dawned on her. It felt like an awakening as she discovered that she would see him again. If not for a long, long while, but they would reunite nonetheless. She pushed her pessimistic vision out of her mind, refusing to believe or dwell on that possibility. Of course he would come here, not there, and when he did, she would be waiting with open arms. They would be together again. Then she would be happy.26

But when Rigel exited the labyrinth, her face was the usual emotionless mask that it had been since her tragic demise. Though the onlookers did not know it, the remainder of her walk had been consumed by dark thoughts of what he would be like when he did come. His age would have no meaning; here, you could be any age you wished. But time had a strong effect on people. In the long stretch that would hopefully pass before he died and came, he may have found someone else. He may have changed for the worse. After all, they were only fourteen years old, and, if all went well, years would pass before they were reunited. Would he still love her when they met?27

For her main state of mind had returned, and her optimistic realization had been driven out and been replaced by the thought that had invaded her thoughts since she joined the ranks of the dead.28

Until she saw him again, not even heaven would be paradise.