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Thread: When We Get To Heaven...

  1. #1
    Senior Member 999roses's Avatar
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    Sep 2003

    Default When We Get To Heaven...

    A question that's floated at least once around everyone's head--what follows after death? Whether you believe in heaven, hell, reincarnation, or eternal sleep...there must be somewhere we all go after death. For now, let's humor the idea of heaven...of white clouds, of angels, and of very blue skies. Where is our ultimate destination? Will we ever reach there? The questions are no longer variables for a young woman who has recently died in a traffic accident.

    On December 3, 2007, Yuna Jang was announced dead at Los Angeles Medical Centre. 33 years old. Chartered Accountant at Johnston's and Associates. All other details undisclosed.

    What was her story? If you ask Yuna, she would simply stare at you blankly. Once you cross the line to heaven, once you leave your body behind, your soul is released....

    She will soon discover the world of heaven. Yuna will soon enter a realm of mystery, of emotions, of a past she can no longer remember. And soon, she shall learn...heaven is not an eternal bliss, but a maze she must complete--with eternity as the only timeline. She will be presented with hints, and she will be allowed to look into mirrors of the past--lessons she did not learn. Will she be able to finally decipher the hidden meanings or will she be stuck eternally in the maze of her own existence?

    Let the first chapter begin....where Yuna travels to the Reclaimed World--where lost belongings are returned to their rightful owners...


    Chapter 1: The Reclaimed World ~ Let Lost Belongings Reunite with their Rightful Owners
    Chapter 2: The Jukebox of Lost Songs ~ Stand in Line to Claim Your Song
    Chapter 3: The Land of Stills ~ Which snapshot captures the moment?
    Chapter 4: Free Hugs Day ~ Whose magical touch can you most connect with?
    Chapter 5: Cry Me a River ~ Feel the Rain Droplets of Tears on your face....Do you still remember the first time someone broke your heart? The first time you scraped your knee?
    Last edited by 999roses; 04-02-08 at 11:51 AM.

  2. #2
    Senior Member PJ's Avatar
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    Jan 2002


    Intriguing beginning!
    I always appreciate something unique.
    忽见柳荫下两个小孩子在哀哀痛哭,瞧模样正是武敦儒、武修文兄弟。郭芙大声叫道:「喂,你们在干甚麽?」武 修文回头见是郭芙,哭道:「我们在哭,你不见麽?」

  3. #3
    Senior Member 999roses's Avatar
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    Sep 2003


    Thanks =) I dunno if I'll have time to actually work on it that much, hopefully I will =P

    I should add a disclaimer though---It's not all my ideas though..A lot of it is based on "Five People You Meet in Heaven" and "Breathing Lessons" (where the idea of reconciling with lost belongings in heaven). But I'll try to add my own interpretations/twists to the theme of "Heaven is where you make sense of your previous life".

  4. #4
    Senior Member 999roses's Avatar
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    Sep 2003


    I'm considering re-naming my story into "The Five Lost Worlds You Meet in Heaven"....ahahaha....

  5. #5
    Senior Member remember_Cedric's Avatar
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    Oct 2007
    right here, right now


    I've always been interested in reading on topics or writings on that! Keep them coming! =D
    What can I say? I'm still standing! No weapon against me shall prosper! I am more than a conqueror!!!

    I don't care to sit by the window on an airplane. If I can't control it, why look?

  6. #6
    Senior Member 999roses's Avatar
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    Sep 2003


    I'll post after May 8. I entered it in a contest on another website, so I can't post it until after that, but I wrote a short story using this theme...I'm thinking of making it into a mini-series hmmm.....

  7. #7
    Senior Member 999roses's Avatar
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    Sep 2003


    So here's the short-version of my story. I'm gonna do a longer version, but this was for a competition, and in the same idea, so I might as well post it here.


    “Every hour wounds. The last one kills.”

    An elfish-looking young man frowned as he closed the rusty-looking book and gazed up at his teacher, “Well that’s it, the last sentence of the last book. I’m done all my readings, but I’m still confused. What’s that supposed to mean?”

    With a menacing smile, the round-bellied old man let out a snort, “You’ll find out soon enough young chap. Perhaps even in today’s training session.”

    Hearing this, the young man groaned, “Again? More reading? I’m so sick of it!”

    “Oh no no,” the teacher chuckled deeply. “Today, you are going to learn the ropes for once. It’s about time we get you some ‘hands on’ experience. The victim will be arriving in less than an hour.”

    His thoughts were interrupted by the student’s noisy ramblings. “Master, what are they doing to her? It looks like she’s crying and so sad, and yet they’re holding her down…and everything is so white.” The student’s eyes glazed as he stared at the woman who was now sleeping peacefully on the white hospital bed after the injection. There were still tears streaked from her large beautiful eyes that had been open and glaring a few minutes ago, and cut marks on both of her wrists. She looked like a beautiful angel—beautiful, but tortured.

    Passing along an instruction manual, the teacher instructed gravely, “Read these to her once she arrives. She will have no recollection of her past life and it will be your job to help her remember by passing through the 5 chambers. There may some chambers more than once, depending on her progression. As for other details, it will be a test for you as well as for her.”

    Furrowing his eyebrows, the student asked again in confusion, “So, she’s like—dead? And how will I know when to pass her to the next chamber?”

    “No,” the teacher answered with annoyance. They were already running out of time. The woman’s 12 hours on Earth were rapidly ticking by. They only had 12 hours to extract as much as they could. “Once she sleeps, she is automatically transformed to our world. She has exactly one hour in each chamber. If she successfully passes her task, she will go to the next one. Otherwise, she will have to endure punishment. If you don’t want to see her suffer or earn demerit points, you better make sure she completes all her tasks on the first try. No disciple of mine has ever failed me in this aspect and you certainly don’t want to be the first.” With each word, the teacher’s body outline was turning faint, slowly and slowly, until he was almost invisible.

    The student tried to call out to the teacher’s name, but it was too late. He was left on his own. Suddenly, a cloud appeared in front of him and the same sleeping woman now wandered within the cloud, talking to herself, “Where am I? Where is this place?”

    Realizing that he didn’t have much time left, the student quickly opened the manual and read in a shaky voice, “You have entered a realm of your own imagination—you can think of it as a dream or slumber. You have no recollection of your life, and it will be your sole task for the next 12 hours to rediscover yourself. If you fail to do so, you will be punished severely, including being stuck in this realm forever. You may now proceed to the first chamber—the World of Lost Belongings.”

    In a sudden storm of sand, the woman was plopped into a room scattered with loose pieces of paper. “Your time begins now!” the student announced.

    Grumbling, the woman rummaged through the piles and piles of drawings. She tried her best to look through, hoping to find something that would trigger her memory to give her an idea of who she was. Just when she was about to give up, her eyes stopped on a pile of loosely bound papers. “The Silver Moon Saga,” she read slowly. Something about the title made her hug the volume close to her chest. The student smiled and let out a sigh of relief. He still didn’t understand the significance, but it seemed like she had passed the test. Suddenly, a cloud appeared in front of her, and together, they watched as an image of her past life played before their eyes.

    It was the woman in her younger days, running to answer the front door. Her frown quickly turned into a yelp of surprise as she opened the flaps of the box, “The Silver Moon Saga!” She whispered, “He must’ve made the trip back to find these for me. I wonder if I’ll ever see him again…”

    Clearing his throat, the student announced, “Congratulations. You have survived the first chamber. You will now proceed towards ‘Free Hugs Day’.

    Before she could protest, she was thrown into another world. In front of her were rows and rows of young men. Puzzled, she tapped the first man on the shoulder. He immediately whirled around and wrapped her in a hug. Shocked, she tried to protest, but he soon let go after two seconds. When she got a look at his face, she soon realized—my science lab partner! And so she spent the good part of the next hour—hugging her neighbour, Grade 2 best friend, cousin, lawyer, dentist—everyone but him. And just when she was about to give up, her fingers suddenly tingled when she touched the tall young man with well-defined shoulders and a strong built. Before she realized what was happening, he enveloped her in a hug and to her own surprise, she didn’t want to let go either, but the image cloud floated upon them…

    “You can’t keep hurting yourself because of me!” the girl cried, tears flowing down her cheeks. “We can never be together!” Instead, he just enveloped her in a tight hug, breathing into her neck, “I don’t care, I just know that I love you.”

    “Now onto the Land of Stills—where a picture captures a moment.”

    “Oh not this again,” the woman groaned. The room was scattered with photographs of herself—from age one to the present. Her heart was still a bit sore, and she wanted to return to the young man. Letting out a sigh, her fingers grew tired as she rummaged through the pile—her graduation—her trips to Korea—yearbook pictures—but nothing that struck a chord within her heart. Not until she came across something that wasn’t a photograph, but a sketch—a sketch of herself. The moment her fingers reached to touch her features on the sketch, the image cloud appeared.

    “Could you draw me?” the girl asked sullenly, seating herself under the willow tree. The same young man could barely keep his eyes off her as his fingers moved rapidly. The two gazed at the product for a long time, before she slowly kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

    “The Tub of Tears!”

    The woman was suddenly thrown into a bathtub, completely soaking her hospital gown. Yelping, she spat out a mouthful of water. Surprisingly, the taste wrenched her guts, causing tears to flow back into the tub. “That’s right,” the student’s voice could be heard from above. “Those are all your tears. Now you need to find your way back to the right one.” And so she cried so many times that hour—scraping her knee, fighting with her best friend, doing poorly on a test, but nothing…nothing, until her face turned bright red.

    Her heart pounded out of her chest as she gazed shyly at the young man whose body was on top of hers. His lips gently brushed against hers as he murmured, “Are you sure you’re ready to do this?” She nodded earnestly, despite wrapping her arms tighter around his neck. Soon, tears sprang out of her eyes and her nails clawed deeper into his back as he closed the distance between them.

    Before she could react, she was thrown into another tub. The same ordeal—time seemed to be whirling by faster and faster….Then her heart stopped as she crumbled into a ball, afraid to see the image cloud.

    “Miss, miss?” the nurse asked in a hurried tone. “Are you okay?” The woman struggled to conceal her sobs as she covered her mouth. “You need to take care of yourself after the abortion. Your body is still very weak right now.”

    “Back to the Lost World!”
    She was surrounded in a garden, with flowers of every imaginable color, scent, and type. Sighing and still scarred by the last memory, she proceeded to examine each flower….until her fingers shook as they brushed against the lavender bushes. The scent was too familiar—too familiar.

    “You think giving me flowers is going to make everything okay?” she exclaimed angrily, throwing her beloved lavenders onto the ground. “You left me alone when I needed you the most!” The young man stared back at her with a pained expression, “I had no idea!” Lashing out, the she stomped on the flowers, “I’ll never forgive you!”

    “Onto the Jukebox~ Pick Your Song!”
    After 15 minutes of figuring out how the machine worked, she spent the good part of the jukebox listening to many songs—her first lullaby, her graduation theme, the funeral march of her grandmother’s funeral—but nothing felt right…until Celine Dion’s “It’s All Coming Back to Me Now” struck her with a cold chord.

    Resting her head on his shoulders, she whispered, “Never leave me again, okay?” He lifted her chin, swaying their bodies with the music on the dance floor as he whispered, “Never again.”

    And she was in the tub once more. So she cried some more—her first fight with him, worried sick about her sister’s knee injury, failing a job interview—until a picture of her father flashed into her mind.

    “How could you ruin yourself like this?” an older man scolded in a harsh tone. “No daughter of mine will marry a useless loser like him!” She cried, her tears swallowing her words as she pleaded, “But Appa I love him!”

    “Return to the Land of Stills!”
    Each hour was flying by faster and faster. The time passed was the same, but because she knew it was nearing the end, each minute whirled by at top speed. Her fingers tingled at the touch of a crisp white photograph, the left edge slightly bent.

    “Could you move to the left?” the photographer asked impatiently. Giggling, she shifted slightly and nudged him, “Can you believe we’re actually doing this?” Fingering the lace of her wedding shawl, he kissed her on the nose, “I certainly can, and I have never seen a prettier bride in my life.” The camera flashed suddenly and she pouted, “You ruined the picture!”

    “Land of Tears!” It was like a merry-go-round now….up, round, and about…

    She was crying again, every ounce of energy in her body being used up. “Push harder!” she heard voices around her. “I—I can’t!” she struggled to say, panting harshly as she gave one final push, exhausting all her tears. “Oh my god, I can see the head!”

    “Free Hugs Day!”
    She was in a classroom, a child behind every desk. She tripped over her own feet as each child rushed up to hug her. Each smile was sweet—but distant—until a little boy jumped into her arms, knocking them both down onto the floor. She knew instantly who he was—even before he screamed, “Mommy! I love you!”

    And so she was finally here—the last hour of her journey. To her dismay, she was once again in the tub. Slowly, she transformed to a scene—an eerily familiar scene. She had never felt so agonized in her entire life. As the seconds ticked, she began to regain her memory—every last ounce of it. This was her life—each and every memory. And she had returned to the fateful day that had brought her to this state. “No!” she screamed, trying to run away. But the words didn’t escape her mouth as she remained a tortured soul—stuck within her own body as she felt herself walk away with a suitcase in hand. The pain was so strong now that it clutched her heart, choking her senses. “Oh no, please stop!” she screamed. The student looked on uneasily as he pressed the “Extract” button harder as the manual instructed. And then she felt the small arms grasp around her legs, “Mommy, please don’t leave!” Now crying desperately between chokes, she pleaded helplessly, “Please, stop, I beg of you!” But her body moved away as she shrugged him off painfully, “Mommy’s sorry, but she has to go.” She waited for his last wail before the crash—thirty seconds, as she usually did, and then her heart broke—shattered to pieces. She no longer had energy to cry out as her mouth moved up and down, “Please don’t turn around.” But she did—and let out a blood-curling scream as she came face to face with his son’s body, drenched in blood.

    The machine was now beeping crazily, extracting at maximum speed. “What am I to do?” the student asked frantically. The teacher suddenly appeared again with a pleased look, “You have performed very well, my lad.” They both looked on, the student in horror, the teacher in satisfaction, as the paralyzed woman was transformed slowly back to her hospital bed. “What will happen to her?” the student asked with concern. “Well, our 12 hours with her are up now,” the teacher explained in a bored tone. “We’re gotten everything we need from her, and now she can suffer all she wants in the asylum during the day. But once night hits, she is ours again. It’s stupid people like her that help nourish the Mighty One and all of us in the Land Of Guilt.”

    “You mean—she’ll come back to endure this all again?” the student gulped.

    “Oh yes, again and again. As long a she does not forgive herself, she is ours to play with. Never feel sorry for mortals—they bring guilt upon themselves. You’ll get used to it after the first 20 times.”

    The student sat down on a chair, dazed as he stared at the woman’s sleeping form, all angelic, just minutes before she would wake up in a state of despair and utter craze. And who could blame her after everything? “So this was that last phrase in the book meant,” he slowly realized. “Is there no one to help her?” Then he heard an echo in his head from the Mighty One Himself, “Only herself….only herself.”

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