So this is the first chapter to my new story I recently started on. So far it's just a beta type thing to see how people react to it. If it gets a good response I'll continue the story. The writing style is going to be slightly different then everything else I've done just because personally, I think it would be better this way. Hopefully this gets a good response because I really think this can turn out great!
Disclaimer: I own nothing Maximum Ride related.
Entry 1: Max's Blog
6/14/14
Have you ever wondered what happens when we die? For religious people if you're a good person and don't sin you go to heaven. You probably picture the white fluffy clouds and the big golden gates that you walk through, along with the angels playing trumpets or whatever. If you aren't a good person or are a complete sinner than you obviously don't get the spotlight red carpet type scene, but a more ultimate-camp-fire-dying-of-dehydration type thing. For me, I've always pictured hell as these giant red mountains and flames everywhere like a wasteland you're forced to wander forever.
If you aren't religious, you probably picture either being born again or absolute nothingness. I once believed nothing happened after you died, almost like when the cable goes out and it's just the static on the TV only for your consciousness. But for those who believe in Heaven and Hell I have to ask you something… Who determines whether or not we're good enough for such a high and beautiful place such as heaven of worthy of the barren wastelands of hell?
One thing I've never really understood about religion, and maybe this is why I didn't accept it, was that if we're all born in the image of God, but yet we're all sinners, doesn't that mean God was a sinner himself? And why should I let one man, who created me to be perfect but failed somewhere along the line judge whether or not I'm worthy enough to sit on a fluffy looking cloud? Who decided that the guy who murdered so many people could be resolved of his sins and go to heaven, but the kid who stole food to keep his sister fed is going to hell?
Anyways, this isn't a theology class. I'm here to answer your question about just what happens to us when we die. If you're religious, you have the option of being judged in front of your "supreme being" and of receiving whichever verdict you're worthy of receiving. If you believe nothing happens and it's just poof you no longer exist? Well then see ya later! It all depends on what you truly believe happens to you. You're awarded the opportunity of choosing your own afterlife in a way. But if you don't know what happens, or what you want to happen to you, and you have unfinished business in the living world you're sent back as a reaper. And no not the black cloak and scythe.
You're sent back looking the exact same as you've always looked to other reapers, but humans can't see you. If you've been a reaper long enough you're able to move things, or let people become aware of your presence, this is usually mistaken for a haunting which I guess in a way is what it is, you just can't contact us by Ouija boards and Séances because that's a total waste of time and money for something that's obviously rigged.
You may be wondering by now how I know all this information and why in the world I'd be telling you of all people. Assuming you're a living person and not another reaper who chanced upon this blog I've created, I'm telling you my story because you people deserve to know what really happened that night so many years ago.
But before I just jump right into my long story I should give you some background information first huh? You're probably sitting there thinking "who the hell is this person and why is she so obsessed with death?" Oh and yes, I am indeed of the female species, erm… I was anyways. To begin this, I'm going to simply start off with saying that my name is Max and I was 17 when I died. I've been a reaper for going on ten years now, slowly building up my strength to seek revenge on the person who ended my life before it even really began.
Who was that person you ask? My very own flesh and blood. Someone who was took the metaphor "I brought you into this world and I can take you out of it" WAY too seriously. That person… was Jeb Batchelder. My father.
Welcome to my nightmare kiddies.
R&R?