Greetings, everybody!

I did not expect it to be so soon. When I joined steemit I thought I would only post photography here as this is what I mostly do.

But I found the environment friendly to all kinds of art. People actually paid attention to long posts, read and wrote literature so I even added to my blog description I was also interested in writing. I was putting it off for some time but today I found a good challenge.

Link by link, leaping from post to post, I found the wonderful initiative of @calluna which goes by the tag #tellastorytome.

Here is the latest contest:
https://steemit.com/tellastorytome/@calluna/tell-a-story-to-me-and-win-5-steem-writing-contest-10-when-you-die-and-winners-of-9

And its prompt was:

When you die, you wake...

I began writing this morning and here is my first entry - in the contest and in story writing in English and on this platform:

My Script

Always the pragmatic person. Life taught me that - dreams, hopes and believes - they mattered, as long as you could keep them bound to Reality. And Reality was what you should pay the most attention to. Study Reality and study it hard, Life said. And I did. I think I did quite well. Up to a certain point at the age of twenty-eight when I was dead.

Mostly lucky. Until…

There is one thing I learned of Reality - it is much bigger than my ego, than anybody’s ego and I include perception, understanding, speculations even. And another thing - it balances itself out. On all levels, essentially, but the larger the scale, the more brutal the certainty that your deeds will be flattened out like ripples on the water surface. Because the Universe had time and it also had the volume to take your energy and distribute it into ever smaller particles until…So, you see, luck can do nothing about it.

But I did have some luck. At the age of thirteen I met a man who changed my life. A therapist. A shrink if you prefer. Although I never had disrespect for him. I was sent to him because I needed help and I did know I needed help. Yes, a thirteen year old can know things for real. Although I had been using drugs. He knew why and I knew why. I had been trying to escape from Reality. As everybody did but few were willing to admit.

I was. An I guess that was also luck. Because that helped me open up and take the advice. If I was afraid of Reality I had to never turn my back on it again. I had to study it. I had to face it. It was quite brilliant on that professional’s part to play a game with me. To present me a challenge. Somehow. During our initial sessions, he had understood I loved challenges but. I just had not thought of Life in such a way before.

So thanks to that person I started studying not for school but for what mattered. You will be surprised by my first career choice. At least everyone I knew at the time was surprised. I decided I wanted to join the army. Literally each of my peers made plans how to avoid it and most of them succeeded. But I wanted in.

Not because I dreamed of such a career but because it was the smart thing to do. It was part of my business plan. Join at eighteen, volunteer for a few tough missions, be smart about them and survive, get out at twenty-three. The I would start my own company and never be bossed around again. I would not get into any debts because the funds from my army days would suffice.

And they did and things went quite well.

Yeah, I’ve gone through Hell before that and I don’t claim I would be able to go through it again. I am positive I would not want to. I would do anything in my power not to. I had made mistakes and they had hurt. Me and… others. Of whom I’d rather not speak. Unless you stick with me to the end. Then you will know. And probably curse me for my lack of heart. Well, I’ve seen hearts broken, and I’ve also seen hearts stabbed for real or hearts blown up along with everything else…

Death had been my business. And death would be my business. I had accepted it, I was not repulsed by it. It’s just the loss that sometimes felt unbearable. But I had some expertise in loss as well. So I started a funeral agency. Thinking of opening a small private-eye firm when I eventually got bored of it. I told you I had planned.
I thought I had planned well and with respect for Reality. Except that Reality has no respect for plans. In short… I had rules. I broke them once. I died two weeks after.

---

'How do you feel?' came a soft, deep voice from about two and a half meters, nine o’clock.

I was lying on my back on a soft surface. I was able to smell the books in the room. It all spelled S-h-r-i-n-k and I was already getting sick of it. I’ve been through a lot of therapies after my childhood. It was obligatory for folks in the military. It was both highly recommended and free for a while after that. I almost felt I’ve been addicted to the thing. But I had died. Couldn’t I just rest in peace? Become soil and feed a newly growing plant or something?

I could see nothing yet. Strangely enough, that was the only comforting thing since it was the only detail that conformed to my vision of the afterlife.

'Confused,' I replied truthfully.

'That could only be expected,' reassured my the unseen caretaker. 'What else?'

'What! Else!?', I couldn’t hold my anger for another second. I had always behaved during sessions, but this was too much. I made an attempt of getting up but I didn’t feel in control of my… Of my what? Tortured essence? Who needed that?

'You are frustrated at knowing you died and still being conscious,' Said Dr. Wise-ass Pissing-me-off. You know, like those Slavic family names. I actually felt some pride of coming up with this on the spot. Wherever the spot was... 'It is only normal to be angry at yourself and even at those who would help you,' he continued, pissing me off in the process. 'It is also quite pointless, as you well know.'

He was right and I hated him for it. But old habits kicked in and I also thanked him for it. He was doing what every good one of them would - he was taking most of the blame I had for myself and he was discarding it like dust off his coat. Without discarding me - his case. I realized it was wrong to spit hatred at everyone who tried to help me. I always did. Yet sometimes I couldn’t help myself. Wasn’t that the point?

'Why am I here?', I asked, as calmly as I could this time.

'Why do you think you are here?', came the standard response. Somehow it always got me. And I had my ex-soldier’s pride. I should be able to stay alert.

'Because I messed up. But this is different. I died this time. I couldn’t possibly learn from my mistakes as long as I live because I don’t anymore. I really wish I could...'

'You wish you could what?'

'Undo the damage I caused.' I spoke miserably.

'Then that is why you are here,' he said what I was already beginning to realize.

'But that would be impossible,' I started to protest but stopped.

'It seems you wished it hard enough and here you are,' he pointed out as it was the most obvious thing to see.

'So I just wish something...'

'No,' He wouldn’t let me roll with it. 'I wouldn’t say just. You felt enough pain to cause a ripple, so to speak.'

'Alright,' I gave up to the idea. There were lots of questions like. For instance, how did he know what word to use to make me understand… But that should better wait. For the time being. 'How do I do that?'

'First, tell me what happened,' he proposed as I already knew he would.

'I died,' I considered playing dumb at first but for once I decided against it. 'Alright, alright… I was killed. Along with somebody I had promised I would protect. Her. I wanted to protect her. I fell in love with a client.'

'And why did you fall in love with her?', he asked me as if any man could answer that.

'I don’t know,' I started. 'She seemed so strong and vulnerable at the same time. She was beautiful but most of all… she reminded me of someone. When she confessed she felt as if she was the next target of her late husband’s adversaries, I couldn’t …'

'You could not what?'

'Betray her?' I suggested.

'Would it be a betrayal? You did not know her, after all.'

'Well, I knew her later. And I am not sorry for that. So what would you suggest, anyway?' I kind of turned the heat up again. 'Tell her to find help somewhere else?'

'You know it wouldn’t work.'

'And how do I know that?'

'Have you tried?', came his voice but I could also feel his smug all-knowing smile on my face. But it was the question that created a crushing pause.

My spirit was sinking. I felt as if spiraling down to the Hell of the sudden realization.

I had tried. Then I had run after her. And I had failed again. I had waited for a day. Then I had found her address and I had tried to spy on her and I had tried to intervene in the last possible moment. And I had failed. And failed. And then I had succeeded. A couple of times. But only to be blown up in a car minutes later. Or overwhelmed by mafia gunmen on the streets.

And everything I had tried started only so far back in time. With her entering my office. To find the hero with some interesting background who would, driven by his consciousness, never be able to resist her offer… to join her on a short, beautiful and tragic adventure.

'I feel played. Literally.'

'Now, that’s a good start,' the voice of Dr. Pissing-me-off came to suggest something was improving.

'A start? My life is a script!', I sincerely erupted this time.

'Has been,' He kept on, calm as ever. 'But here you are, with me and talking about it. And as they say, realizing what the problem is constitutes the first part of solving it.'

'With you? And who are you? My divine shrink? For a moment there I thought you were... God.'

'I have to be your shrink for now,' the voice replied. It was not dispassionate as usual before. It contained some sign of promise. 'And I am the next best to God force that you could have on your side.'

'What do you mean?'

'Believe it or not, it was you who created me. I am the Universe you cast your ripples upon. Time after time. Together, we co-exist with the Universe that plays you. Until we are ready to cast enough ripples in it to make a difference.'

I was laughing. Hard.

'You mean I cannot just die now and go power a plant or something with my organic compounds… Because I have no organic tissue!?'

'I am afraid so. Actually, no, I am glad. Hopeful. Of the future we can be.'