Croton

“What is happening to me? Where am I? Is this a dream?”
Thoughts were stampeding in the queue to get into Henry’s head. The last one seemed to be on the verge of explosion. Breath. He was running out of it. He felt like he was going to have a heart attack. The last thoughts started to trigger his memory.
“Heart attack? That’s what happened to me. But where is everybody? Nurses, doctors? Why is nobody helping me? Does my family know where I am?” From the top of his lungs, he screamed, “What is going on?” His voice echoed through the emptiness, and nobody gave him any answers. Steadily his pulse slowed down; his breath returned to normal, and Henry, like any other human, started to think. In other words, he started to rationalize the situation. The first question that popped into his mind was, “Am I dead?” After quite a substantial check of his body, he agreed that feeling was still there. He could see.
“But what can I see? I see myself, which is quite an achievement. But what about angels, Saint Peter? Where are all those things we have heard about Heaven? Heaven? Am I in it? I must be, I’ve done nothing wrong in my life. An average citizen, average job, average family. I definitely deserve Heaven if it exists here.”
The next thought that popped into his mind was, “But what good have I done in my life?” He tried to remember something he could brag about, something he could defend himself with if it came to Judgment Day. Nothing was coming to mind. “Oh God, I do not deserve to be in Heaven, it must be Hell I am in. No, I cannot believe this is happening to me.”
The next thing he shouted out was, “I have done nothing wrong in my life!” His voice echoed again into the invisible walls and disappeared into darkness. After a couple of seconds of absolute silence, he heard the Voice—the type of voice that could shake you to the core.