The first thing Shawn registered was how white everything seemed. The endless bright void of nothingness caused him to squint a little.
"Hello Shawn"
He whirled round and saw a man standing behind him. He had silver grey hair upon his head and chin. As well as, black skin that had been beaten by age and yet gave off a timeless aura. He was dressed in a suit and tie that seemed matched the room but with perhaps an even brighter glow.
"Are you….Are you God?" Shawn stammered
"No, actually, I'm his messenger and cousin, Rod. Although I got this position on my own merits"
The man shot Shawn a rather accusatory and somewhat irate look. It was as if he were daring Shawn to argue with him.
"Too bad I've a couple things I'd like to say to the big guy" he chuckled without mirth.
"I don't doubt it" Rod pursed his lips.
"So Rod can you tell me where I am" he asked with a touch of humour.
The man paused thoughtfully.
"I suppose you could say we are between worlds. We like to call this the transition phase"
Shawn's felt numb. He almost wanted to laugh. The day had finally come. Fate was done torturing him. It was all over. He would not cry. He could not cry. Hunter's never cried.
"I'm dead aren't I?" he said bitterly
"Not quite" the man smiled
"Not quite?" he frowned
"That's the reason I'm here. I think it's time someone talked to you about that chip on your shoulder"
Shawn nearly exploded at these words. How dare this guy, Rod, or whatever the hell he called himself, tell him that he had a chip on his shoulder.
"Just shut up! You don't know anything about me or my life"
Shawn turned away from the man.
"Your name is Shawn Patrick Hunter. Son of Chet and Virna Hunter. Half-brother of Jack and Eddie Hunter. Step brother of Stacey Anderson. Ex-boyfriend of Angela Moore. You were born in Ohio. Graduated from John Adams High and later attended Pennbrook University. Your father was always going on the road to chase after your mother, while you were bounced around between relatives, the Matthews and even your old English teacher, Mr Turner. You speak four different languages. You love ice-skating and poetry, although are somewhat shy about the latter. You like the TV show NYPD Blue and the band Counting Crows. You enjoy playing the tough guy, but I think we both know it's only a defence mechanism. How am I doing?"
Shawn didn't answer for a minute.
"Ok, I guess" he shrugged
"Really? I was sure you'd call me out on the most important detail"
Shawn frowned.
"Never mind. The point is that it is interesting how even the oddest of circumstances can bring people together but of course, in the same way they can tear people apart." The man sighed.
The mention of tearing people apart caused something like bile to rise within him. He couldn't believe that the man had the audacity to mention it. This was on fate not him.
"Yeah well you've been tearing people away from me my entire life! From the day I was born! My own mother didn't even want me! The woman I thought was my mother abandoned me countless times, forcing my father to leave me so I could play-make-believe! The only teacher who ever cared about me disappeared! The only girl I've ever loved left me for a country. The one time my father actually might have stayed was the time you killed him!"
The man waited until Shawn's yelling had ceased.
"Europe is a continent not a country" he said finally
"What does it matter?! Angela's gone. They've all gone!...Why did you take them from me?" Shawn's voice shook
"So you could learn."