The last thing I saw was him. He was saying something; his lips were moving but I could not hear a thing.

Now, I am here awake, sitting next to my body. Yes, you read it right, sitting next to my body. I committed suicide. I killed myself, however you want to call it. Why? Well, I was afraid of myself.

The floor is covered in my blood; my body is beginning to turn so bluish and violet that it makes me feel pity for myself. The police are here talking between themselves and my neighbors, wondering what motives I could have had to do what I did. I decided that if I stayed there a little bit more, I would regret not killing myself in the closet so no one could find my body for a while.

I walked out of the apartment building, it was late in the afternoon, in busy Manhattan. People were returning home from their jobs and some of them getting ready to enjoy the rest of the night. As I walked through the mass of people on the street I wondered if I would see him again, even though I am dead. And who the hell called the police? I wanted to die alone. I came across the St. Patrick Cathedral, already closed, tourists outside taking pictures, eating hot dogs and pretzels, so disgusting. 

I walked to the door and touched it.  My fingers went right through the door, so I decided to enter completely. Inside the candles were burning, everything was warm and quiet, I sat in one of the benches and closed my eyes. I am not supposed to go to hell?

“Not really.” 

I opened my eyes and next to me was this tall man, pale skin and blue eyes looking at me with a smile.

”What do you mean?” I asked, moving a little bit away from him to see his face.

He was a handsome man, his age, well, he could possibly be my dad or granddad, but certainly he was the most beautiful creature I had seen.

“If you commit suicide you automatically would go to Hell, or won’t have an eternal rest, that’s what religion tell us. In fact this is partially true, but with you it’s different because you have a job to do and unfortunately it is completely permanent. You would never be able to fully rest.”

“A job? I do not think I am the right person; you have mistaken me for someone else.”

I stand up and step backwards.

“Do you see any other dead people around, besides us?”

I looked around, the only ones there beside us were the concierges of the church cleaning, live humans. I looked at him, he was still smiling at me, his incredible blue eyes were full of destruction, I could see everything set on fire in them, anger, and horror.

“Why me?” I sat again next to him looking down, he grabbed my hand. I could feel him! Cold but I could touch him, I was amazed. I thought I would never be able to touch anything again.

“Sorry, you got the job because I’ve been looking at you since you were born, and I knew you were different.”

“Who are you?”