[ WP ] Your first question upon arriving in the afterlife is , `` what do people do here ? '' An elder member describes the phases that people go though once they arrive and warns you about the last one .

“ What happens now? ” I ask quietly. “ Do I go to heaven now? Is *this* heaven? ” 
 The woman before me seems to shimmer as she turns slightly to look at me. In one moment she is somehow large and small, wide and thin, old and young. She is both alien and somehow so recognizable. My mind tries and fails to puzzle through it. 
 
 He tells me, “ think of this as a way station, if you will, ” his voice booming. “ Before you can fully leave your old life behind, you must relive the moments that changed you the most. Your favorite memories, your harshest regrets – they have all shaped your life, ultimately leading you here. ” 
 
 “ And then what happens? ” 
 
 His smile seems to split his face, his sharpened teeth glinting in the light of this strange place. “ That is your choice. ” 
 
 I frown. “ My choice? ” I question. “ But I thought – I thought this was my judgment. ” 
 
 “ Just as in life, you decide your fate. ” 
 __________________________________________ 
 It begins in a hospital room. A woman is screaming, sweat gleaming on her beautiful face. A high pitched wail fills the room as a new life enters the world. 
 “ It ’ s a girl, ” the doctor says, handing her the baby. The woman ’ s face crumples, as she refuses to take her new daughter into her arms. 
 
 “ I can ’ t, ” she whispers. 
 
 I watch in horrified fascination. This is my mother, the woman who gave me up. Instead of the hatred I have always felt, I feel pity. She looks wounded, weak, and so young. 
 
 “ What will you name her? ” 
 
 “ Anna. ” 
 
 I blink in surprise. Anna was such a common name, I had always assumed it had been the foster home who had given it to me. 
 
 “ It ’ s okay, ” I tell her. “ I forgive you. ” 
 
 She looks up at me, with the same color eyes I see each time in the mirror. “ Who are you? ” she asks, startled. Her eyes fill with fear as she pulls up the covers tighter around her. “ Doctor, who is this? ” 
 
 I back away in shock, my mouth gaping. “ I- “ I begin, as I feel myself pulled away. “ No! ” I cry, “ no, let me stay! Let me stay! ” 
 
 _____________________________________________ 
 
 Next is a small bedroom. On the bed, I see myself at fourteen years old, working on a book report, a Greek history textbook opened with nearly every word underlined or highlighted. 
 
 Why here? I want to go back! I want to go back to my mother. Maybe I can convince her to keep me, not give me away. I can fix it, fix everything. 
 The door opens with a loud bang, and instantly I remember what will happen. A large burly man comes in, his face purpling in rage. 
 
 Why this memory? Why do I have to relive this? 
 
 I watch myself try to run for the door, but his greater frame blocks her attempts. 
 “ Not so fast, ” he taunts her. 
 
 I don ’ t even think about the consequences. I run at him, slamming into his back and knocking him over in surprise. I punch and kick at him, until his face so distorted, even I can hardly recognize him as the man who had violated me so thoroughly. 
 
 My younger self looks at me. She ’ s panting in fear. “ Don ’ t be afraid, ” I tell her. “ Never be afraid. ” 
 
 “ Who are you? ” 
 
 I don ’ t get a chance to answer, the pull taking me away. 
 
 _________________________________________________ 
 Then it ’ s a crappy hotel room. Next to me on the bed is one of many of my dead-beat boyfriends, drooling onto his pillow. 
 
 On the dresser is a bent spoon, and a needle. This is the first time I overdose, I realize. He had gotten cheap stuff that night, and unknowingly, it had been laced with rat poison. Fucking rat poison. 
 
 Soon, he would wake up and realize what had happened, and drop her off at the hospital without so much as a ‘ sorry. ’ 
 
 She would be arrested. The start of a long descent into darkness and failure. It would be years until she pulled herself back out of it. 
 
 A terrible thought enters my mind. What if -? No I can ’ t finish it. Just to even imagine such a thing. 
 
 *But*. It would n't be hard. I pick up the spoon, and the needle. It takes me a few seconds to remember how, but then I ’ m jabbing a needle into the man ’ s arm. It ’ s a kind death, really. 
 
 I glance at my duplicate on the bed, watching her chest slowly rise and fall, her strength leaving her. She will die. 
 
 And I will take her place. 

