Increasingly bright lights pull me back to reality, persuading me to open my eyes.
The last thing I remember is pain and blood. I knew it was the end – I knew there was no going back. Help came too late.
The first thing I'm aware of, is that the pain has gone and there is no sign of blood when I open my eyes. I sit up, taking in my bizarre surroundings. This is not what I expected heaven to be like.
I seem to be sat in the middle of a pale green square. As I look above me, I see a large neon sign. The shapes on it make no sense. I rub my eyes and look again. The shapes have formed into words.
'Welcome, you oaf!'
I snort at the stark reminder of my ex-husband. Heaven or hell – of course he'd be here in some form.
Suddenly, I hear his gruff voice – as clear as it was in life.
"Get up, you oaf. What are you doing on the floor?"
I scramble to my feet in bewilderment. "Seriously?" I mutter, stunned. "Dylan?"
There's no answer and I wonder if I've imagined it, but it sounded so real – as if he was standing right next to me. If he is, he's invisible, and that's not possible. Not even he's that clever.
"Grumpy?" I ask, looking around. "Are you here?"
"Where else would I be?" He remarks gruffly.
Well, I didn't expect him to be in heaven – not like this anyway. Not talking to me in heaven. Actually, I didn't expect heaven to be like this at all.
"Are you dead too, Dylan?"
Again , there's no reply. I'm pretty sure that he was far enough away from the explosion to escape damage, but I need to make sure. I want him with me – but not if it means he's dead or hurt. If that's the price, he can't stay. I won't let him.
Another idea occurs to me.
"Are you in my head, Grumpy?"
"Of course I'm in your head." He responds – as though it's the most obvious thing in the world – and it is - now that he's said it. It could never have been anything else.
Before I can answer, a noise like a klaxon startles me. The neon message on the board 'Welcome, you oaf' disappears and is replaced by the number '6' flashing urgently. As I stare around me, the whole place lights up. I would appear to be in a corridor – pale green as far as the eye can see, but the black outlines clearly section the way into squares.
"What?" I exclaim, incredulously.
"Walk forward '6' spaces." The unmistakeable voice of Connie Beauchamp instructs.
"What?!" I repeat, even louder. I certainly didn't plan on meeting her in heaven.
Never mind walking through a wardrobe into Narnia – or falling down a rabbit hole. These things just don't happen.
"Walk forward '6' spaces." Connie's voice rings out again.
"Dylan, this is completely ridiculous." I comment.
I'm met with silence. I think I'm getting the hang of this.
"Grumpy?" I try again, with a sigh.
"How can I help?" He remarks.
As I thought. It would appear that Dylan only answers to 'Grumpy' here.
"This is completely ridiculous, Grumpy." I repeat again.
"Would you please walk forward '6' spaces." Connie states impatiently.
"It is ridiculous." Dylan agrees. "But it's probably best if you do what she says."
At the advice of my beloved, I tentatively step on to the next square. There appears to be a gap in the wall between the squares. Strange. I cautiously side step and peer inquisitively through the gap – and behind the wall. The wall appears to be paper-thin and there's nothing but black behind it.
"No short-cuts." Connie retorts shrilly. I jump out of my skin.
"Sorry!" I withdraw my head hurriedly.
"It's only Connie." Dylan chuckles.
"Yes." I mutter. "But she shouldn't be here - I didn't ask her to be here."
"Well, you know Connie – she has to run everything." He answers.
I sigh and set about counting out the remainder of my steps – feeling incredibly stupid for doing so. As I reach the middle of the sixth square, a picture appears on the walls either side of me. I stare at them, dumbfounded. "You are kidding me – right?"
It's hard to know exactly what I expected – I've never really considered the matter before. What did I expect?
Blue skies and sunshine, I suppose. Lush green grass and beautiful flowers – maybe a little stream and some calming music. That's not very me though, is it.
I guess I though I'd be in charge – and I'd have what I always wanted. If Dylan was here, I'd be able to see him – to touch him. I'd be able to see that he was ok.
What kind of heaven is this? It's certainly not the one I imagined.
"What would you like to do?" Connie states – rather than asking.
"I'd like to get out of here." I comment, hopefully.
There's no answer. Well, it was worth a try.
"-Or if I can't leave, can I at least meet the mad hatter?" I add sarcastically. If I am stuck here - and I can't have Dylan in person, the least she can do is give me the mad hatter to brighten things up.
"The mad hatter is unavailable." Connie informs me.
"Oh, is he having a tea party with Alice?" I remark factiously.
"The mad hatter is the property of Lewis Carroll's imagination – and is therefore unavailable due to copyright reasons." Dylan explains to me helpfully.
"Oh. Yes – I thought it would be something like that." I comment.
"What is it you wish to do?" Connie repeats.
"I've already told you." I complain. "Grumpy, what does she expect me to say?"
"I think she wants to know what you want to do with regards to the square you're on." He informs me.
I stare around me, at the walls. "I hate this place – why oh why, couldn't I have fallen down the rabbit hole-"