I woke in the afterlife and I didn't even seem to care. I recalled the sudden flash of bright lights, followed by the eardrum shattering sound of screeching tires and breaking glass. Confusion and a state of complete chaos before an overwhelming sense of peace washed over me. The brother of a seven-year-old ballerina, child of a psychologist and businessman, beloved friend, just shy of reaching the proper age of adulthood; I knew I was dead. Nothing had yet been clarified, no explanations offered, but I knew in my heart that I was right.

     My seemingly perfect life cut drastically short, you would think I'd be angry. I should have been angry, but I appeared incapable of portraying such emotions, the nothingness surrounding me strangely peaceful. Inexplicably, I felt ready for the next stage of life. I suspected the feeling may have been imposed on me... But still I couldn't be troubled.

     Despite knowing the answer, I questioned the reassuring presence upon its return. "I'm dead, aren't I?"

     No words were spoken, but somehow my inkling was confirmed. A silent language conveyed only by feelings, a language I knew not I could understand, confirmed that I had indeed been the only fatality involving the car crash of my family's red Chevrolet SUV.

     "What now?" I asked calmly.

     "You'll follow me." A comforting hand was placed on my shoulder. I wasn't startled by the man's sudden appearance. "But... Not just yet."

     The raspy tone in the man's voice was familiar. Inhaling the smell of old spice shampoo and cheap cigars, I knew before turning, who I would come to face.

     "Grandpa," I uttered in disbelief. I hadn't seen him in years; hadn't heard his voice since I watched him take his last breath in that awful hospital bed.

     "I wish I could say it was nice to see you again." He smiled sadly.

     Free of his wheelchair, body strong and eyes alert as I had known him when he was healthy, he took a few steps forward before embracing me in a tight hug. Lingering in his arms a few moments longer than I usually would, when I reluctantly pulled away, I spun on my feet to study the blank room.

     There was nothing to see.

     "This isn't what I expected the afterlife to look like," I marvelled aloud.

     "You're not quite there yet."

     "What?" I spun around again. "Does that mean—"

     "No," he interrupted gently. "You're not in a coma that you can be woken from, or any situation of the sort. I'm afraid your body has passed on and nothing can be done to permanently bring you back."

     I frowned again and searched the white emptiness around me as if there I would find answers. As much as I tried, I couldn't phantom the purpose of my presence in this... nothingness. If my life was over, and there was absolutely no undoing it, shouldn't I have been moving on? If there was nothing left to settle, what was there to wait for? 

       Is there a waiting list to heaven? Assuming that is where I was heading... Perhaps this is where the decision of my faith would be made. For something of such importance, it was much plainer than I would ever have imagined.

     Familiar laughter startled my thoughts.

     "This isn't a waiting room," grandpa revealed, thin lips tugged upwards. "It's an illusion of what is to come. I can't say or show you much until you've either accepted or declined our offer."

     "Offer?"

     "Why don't you have a seat? This might take a while."

     My lips parted to remind him that we were surrounded by nothing, but the moment I did so, two leather sofa chairs appeared.

     Cautiously taking a seat, I waited impatiently for my grandfather to continue. My legs were restless against the cool leather seats.

     "Do you believe in faith?" he asked. "Do you believe in people being destined to live or accomplish certain things?"

     "Yeah?" I answered uncertainly.

     "Do you believe there are certain people we are destined to meet?"

     "Like soulmates?"

     "I suppose you could say so."

     I considered his question before answering. "I'm not sure what I believe... But I'm assuming you've brought it up for a reason, so I'm thinking it's likely true."

     With a small smile, he rolled his eyes. "If you had the opportunity to meet one of these people, would you take it?"

     "I don't understand where this is going," I admitted. "It seems like this is what you meant by the offer, but two minutes ago, you told me I was dead dead. No going back."

     "And that remains true." He nodded. "But exceptions can be made under special circumstances. You died following the crash on the night of January 23rd. That cannot be changed. But if you're interested, you can temporarily return to the living world."

     "To meet my soulmate?"

     "To meet someone whose life you have the potential to change for the better."

     "Why?"

     It was my grandfather's turn to frown, as though he couldn't believe that I would question such an offer.

     "Is this custom afterlife procedures?" I clarified. "Exception makes it seem as though not many people are offered the same opportunity. Am I the only one given this option?"

     "It hardly ever happens, but no, you're not the only one."

     "Why me?"

     "As much as this could be a great opportunity, this isn't for you. It's for the girl. She could very much benefit from your acquaintance."

     "This would be to help her?"

     He nodded.

     "What is this? Highway to Heaven? Is this the task I need to complete to get my wings?"

     "You're not becoming an angel." Grandpa chuckled lightly. "Nor are you in any way obligated to go through with it. If you don't wish to take us up on our offer, that's fine... But aren't you the least bit curious?"

     I chewed my cheek thoughtfully. Of course, I was curious. How could I not? If I declined the offer, I worried that I would forever be bothered by the what if? Still... the twisting in my gut told me that it was wrong. Though the whole offer was established for this girl's benefit, I couldn't help but feel that I would be using her for another, even if brief, chance at life.

     "Isn't this wrong?" I voiced my thoughts. "I know from the start that once I do as I've been asked, that I'm to come back here. I'm assuming she won't know I'm dead... What if this hurts her?"

     "Sometimes the experience is worth the pain, even if it doesn't feel like it. Unfortunately, asking her beforehand isn't an option. But we know your presence will be helpful."

     "If I say no, it'll haunt me for eternity, won't it?"

     "I wouldn't say haunt, but you will remember this conversation. Do with that information what you will."

     How could anyone possibly say no? I had nothing to lose. What difference would it make if I passed on now or later? I'd get more time on earth and help someone at the same time. Sounded like a win win to me.

     "There's really no way I'm refusing this, is there?"

     "I was hoping that would be your answer." By the grin on my grandfather's face solely, I knew that I was making the right decision. "Before we leave, I need to make sure that you are completely committed to this. There's no backing out. It will be difficult. I can't tell you how the timeline will work, but you absolutely cannot see anyone from your past life... You'll miss them greatly, but I promise when this is over, you will be able to check up on them as much as you want."

     "You'll stay with me though?"

     I didn't spend much time away from home. I couldn't imagine being able to go a long time without telling my parents about my day or creating extravagant stories to make Mila giggle.

     Hazel eyes shining sympathetically, my grandfather nodded.

     "Then I'll be alright," I decided. "Even if it gets difficult. I'm not the quitting type."

     "Oh, I know." The old man laughed.

     "You've been watching?" I asked, slightly horrified.

     "Of course."

     "That's disconcerting... How does that—"

     "No," he interrupted; slim fingers pressed to my lips. "Much like your constraint against quitting, your lips never seem to quit moving."

     "Is this your way of telling me I can't be trusted?"

     "Yes." He spoke without an inkling of remorse. "You will get answers, but not until you no longer require supervision."

     "Supervision?" I demanded.

     "Someone needs to make sure that you don't spread the information you've acquired."

     What information? If you die and God has a special offer for you, you're placed in an empty white room? Did that count as pertinent information?

     "Because I have pressing questions," I started. "I'm going to choose to pretend that I'm not offended by your lack of faith in my secret keeping abilities... What happens if I do let something slip? What if I walk up to someone and try to tell them I'm dead?"

      "They'll probably keep their distance. Surely, they'll think you're spouting nonsense."

     I narrowed my eyes, unamused with his sarcasm. Was I wrong to think my death serious business?

     "I don't know," he surrendered. "It's not my responsibility... Jaxson, just please don't try it."

     "It was only a thought. Though admittedly, I'm rather curious now." If not his responsibility, whose? Was some other dead person in charge of making sure I didn't mess up?

     "Do you realize that this is justifying our belief that you need supervision?"

     Rolling my eyes, I heaved a small sigh. "I'll be good," I promised.

     "Then, we're ready to go."

     I nodded eagerly, ready to follow his lead. When he made no move to stand, I frowned. I searched my surroundings again, half expecting a door to magically appear as had the chairs.

     I watched my grandfather expectantly. Nothing. He remained seated and unbothered.

    "Are we going or not?" I prodded. "If you're waiting on me, I truly have no idea how to get out of here."

     "It's night-time in the physical world. I'll take you to see the girl tomorrow."

     "I still don't understand."

     "It's night-time," he repeated, curt tone implying that he believed the short sentence to be a sufficient explanation.

     I frowned again. Nose and mouth rising simultaneously, a deep state of confusion overcame me. Was this his idea of a practical joke?

     "Sleep, Jaxson," he clarified.

     Brows permanently furrowed, I looked down at my chair. No beds had appeared. The recliners remained the only items in the room. Though still perplexed, I forced myself to relax. I shot grandpa one last frown before shutting my eyes.

     White emptiness replaced with darkness, I tried to sleep, but the task seemed impossible with the shock and excitement of the experience to come. The hazel eyes that bore into me certainly did nothing to lessen my vigilance. Inching an eye open, I snuck a glance at my grandad. He met my gaze, relaxed state almost becoming annoyed.

     "I told you—"

     "I know," I interrupted in an equally frustrated tone. "But I can't just fall asleep instantly."

     "Sleep," he repeated.

     Exasperated groan escaping me, I shot him one last crazed look. Lips parting to complain, I swallowed my words when I became transfixed on his eyes. Unable to look away from the hazel pools identical to my mother's, the floor at my feet spun. Breath catching in my throat, as if in a trance, my vision darkened.

     "Sleep," he repeated one last time, hypnotic voice just above a whisper.

     The word had barely escaped his lips, when my eyes rolled into my head. Body sinking deep into the leather fabric, I fell into a profound slumber.