A City of Death

After what felt like a very long time, I opened my eyes and saw the inside of a box. It took mere moments to realize this was a coffin. I was not panicked, however. I raised my arms and pushed, and the lid moved away with more ease than I had expected. After adjusting to the light, the first thing I saw was my late grandmother's smiling face.

I was dead, wasn't I?

I repeated this question out loud and received a chuckle from Grandma. "Yes, you are dead." Her statement caused me no panic. It was as if I had already come to accept it. "Come with me, sweetheart. Let me show you to our new home," she said and extended her hand. I took it, and she helped me out of the coffin.

I took a look at my surroundings. We were inside a massive temple of sorts filled with coffins and people. Large columns lined the walls which were dotted with many stained glass windows. People garbed in religious clothing of several faiths could be seen tending to people and various other housekeeping duties. "This is where all the newly dead appear upon arrival to the spirit world," Grandma said. "Each one met by the last ancestor they thought of in life. Your grandfather was very jealous, you know? He has gotten very competitive with me as you grandchildren have reached old age."

"That does sound like Grandpa," I said, stifling a laugh.

"We should head out. It's a long journey, and I don't want us to be late. They have a feast prepared for you," Grandma said and led me to the large doors of the temple.

We exited, and I was met with the sight of the largest city I had ever seen. Skyscrapers and roads stretched as far as the eye could see in all directions bathed in the red light of the setting sun. "Whoa, what is this place?" I asked, bewildered.

"This is the capital of the spirit world. Billions of souls reside here, all of them enjoying the existence that is the afterlife."

Grandma led me through the city. I had to hold on to her blouse as she led me down the busy sidewalk so I wouldn't lose her. My eyes were drawn to the shops lining the streets where laughing and cheerful conversation resounded. This city, in any other context, I would have considered lively, but I guess that word doesn't really work here.

Grandma led me to the metro station, where we waited for the train. "Are there other cities like this one?" I asked, unable to hold back any longer. "There are so many people here."

"There are many cities just like this one. Each one belonging to a family."

"Wait, so everyone here is related?" I asked. The buildings here are so big, could there truly be a family that large?

Grandma chuckled, "My dear, family does not always mean a blood relation. Those that live in this city in particular had no connections in life. It's a bit different from other cities. The people who reside here are people who were disowned, disfellowshiped, or simply alone in life. In death, they now constitute the largest community in the afterlife. In a way, those who were alone in life now have a second chance to find a place to belong. The city where you will now reside contains more than your direct lineage. It's a congregation of those that were close to us in life."

"I see," I responded, but I was still confused. At that moment, the train arrived, and we boarded. After we settled into our seats, Grandmother rested her head on my shoulder, and I noticed that she looked exhausted.

"Sorry, but it was a long journey," she said, closing her eyes. Before I could respond, I could tell she had fallen asleep. I guess we still get tired in death. I took a moment to watch her sleep. She looked the same age she was when she had passed away so many years ago. Looking at myself, I noticed that I now looked as I had in my twenties or thirties. How long had it been since then? Maybe how we look is based on the viewer's perspective of how they saw us in life. I definitely wasn't in this good of a shape before I died.

As the journey began, I took an interest in the passing landscape outside the window. Skyscraper after skyscraper passed for what felt like hours. Slowly the surroundings looked more and more like a suburb. We stopped at a quaint station, and Grandma, awake by this point, ushered me off and down a street. The sun still sat at the same position as it had. I had already grown used to that red-hued sky. The houses here, while not as tall, were still numerous. I had yet to see an empty plot of land. Strangely, this place seemed familiar. Almost as if I knew it like the back of my hand. I had a feeling like I could never get lost here.

While walking, we passed by many people who exchanged pleasantries with Grandma. After twenty minutes or so, we stood in front of an elegant house. Faces I knew and even some I didn't greeted me at the entrance. Grandma introduced me to some of my ancestors that had passed before I was born and I hugged tightly the members that had passed before me. This was my new home. I was led inside to a table filled with foods that I recognized as dishes we would leave in remembrance during my life.

"The offerings given in life are what sustains us in the afterlife," Grandma said after she saw that I had noticed. I said a silent thank you to those who remained alive and sat down to enjoy this fine feast with my family.