• It was the end. I knew I was dying. It wasn’t as painful as I thought it would be. Almost like numbing medicine is slowly subsiding, and then being put into your system again. I’m Leah Delmore, and I’m thirteen years old. Or should I say was? I don’t know. It’s April 15, 2008, and I was in a car accident on the way from my dad’s house, to see my mom again. They couldn’t get me to the hospital, or even into the ambulance, in time to save my life. The last things I heard was the ambulance sirens wailing and my dad crying my name.

    I was floating now. I could see the scene below, my body in an ambulance, the monitor flatline, my dad calling my mom to tell her what had happened. It was a depressing sight, so I looked away, to see what was above me, to what I was floating to. There were clouds parting to release a city on clouds, possibly the most beautiful thing in the world, with silver and gold and white and pink, and really every color that was ever made. There was also a large, golden gate that was slowly opening for me and the others who were floating with me now. I couldn’t make out many of the people, but the closest one to me was a mother and her child that had been a still-bearth, but was now full of life and smiling, and futher along I could see an old man smiling, possibly thinking of all of the people he would get to see.

    At the gate there were people waiting. The groups of people with me found family and friends who had gone before them, smiling and greeting each other. There were also angels, greeting, smiling, their wings folded behind them so the wind wouldn’t take them away. I would have disapproved of them taking death so lightly if they weren’t so beautiful.

    That’w when I saw him, Chris, my older brother, who had died at fourteen from pnemonia when I was six. He had been the closest person to me in the entire world before his death, and I had still thought of him that way even after he died. I would never have gotten over missing my best friend, even if we argued over tooth paste too much before. We did everything together, and nothing would have changed that. If he hadn’t decided not to get his flu shot that year. He was smiling, waiting for me. I smiled back, walking up to him and taking his hand.

    “It’s been so long,” he said, embracing me in a tight hug, knocking the breath out of me.

    Cold tears rolled down my cheeks when I replied, “I was in a car accident. They couldn’t save me.”

    “I know,” he whispered into my ear.

    “This will be horrible for Mom and Dad, and Grandma and Grandpa, and everyone else. They still haven’t got past your death, and now I just had to die as well,” I sobbed. He hugged me tighter, trying to comfort me. It wasn’t working all that much, but I was still happy that he was there for me, to talk to me again. There had been a lot of things that I had wanted him to be with me for, and he hadn’t been there.

    He said to me, “Well, look on the bright side. We’re together, nothing can change that now, and in a place where nothing can go wrong. We can always be safe.”

    I looked up at his familiar face of bright green eyes and light red hair and asked, “Is this Heaven? What’s it like?”

    He chuckled and replied, “It’s great. That’s not a good enough word for it. But you’ll see soon enough.” Chris then led me away, holding my hand. I only looked back in time to see the gates silently closing.