[ WP ] You visit your neighborhood where you grew up after 35 years and realize that nobody has aged since you left .

There was almost no traffic on my way to Sagefield. I could take my time looking at the road I'd last travelled as a teenager of fifteen, when I'd left the town with my mom. 
 
 The fields I passed were a chaotic blend of colours - yellow mingled with bursts of red and pink. I'd forgotten how many flowers there were here. 
 
 My heart pounded as I drove into town. Exactly as I remembered it. 
 
 In fact, not a single building was different. I remembered - I remembered everything about this place. The streets I'd played in as a child, where we had safely stayed in past dark until it was time to run home. The open fields, untouched by the development of massive, grey apartment blocks as had happened to so many similar, small towns - where me and my brother had built a treehouse. It was still there. 
 
 I arrived at my house. The door opened before I could knock, and there was dad: forty years old and smiling, enveloping me in a rib-cracking hug. 
 
 I turned and really looked at the people. Our neighbours, Alison and Derrick and their daughter Karlie. They were the age I'd last seem them: Karlie winked at me, the same confident, slightly older girl who'd been my best friend when I'd lived here. 
 
 `` Hey, want to go to movies later?'' she yelled from across the street. `` There's a great horror one showing, did n't you always love that? It's about this chick stuck in a maze, and then...'' 
 
 But my dad squeezed my shoulder and answered her before I could. 
 
 `` She needs to understand, first, Karlie, alright? Later, perhaps,'' he said, and led me inside the house. 
 
 `` What's going on?'' I asked, sinking into the faded leather couch in the living room. 
 
 He sat down next to me and held my hand. `` It's all going to be fine, dear. You're safe. It's over.'' 
 
 Over. The word jogged my memory. Had he known it would? Over - I'd gone over a bridge, had n't I? Over a bridge, driving late at night. I'd gone right over and under the water, panicking as my lungs filled with fluid and the world went murky and dark... 
 
 `` It's not dark anymore,'' he said, as if she could hear what I'd said. `` It's great. Look, you're safe back home. You'll stay here now, and be happy.'' 
 
 I looked up, past him, into the mirror that hung over the fireplace. I touched my face - youthful and wide-eyed, and fifteen. Somehow, it did n't shock me. I'd realised what must have happened, because I could suddenly remember every detail of my accident. 
 
 `` I'm dead?'' I asked, and he blinked and laughed slightly. 
 
 `` Well, technically. But do you feel dead, honey? Of course not. You can play with your friends again, in the town you loved. The town you missed all your adult life. This is your heaven.'' 
 
 The town I'd loved. But I'd left for some reason, had n't I? I'd left with my mom... 
 
 I could n't grasp the memory. I shook my head and turned to my dad again. He was still smiling, holding my hands tightly. 
 
 `` Does this mean you're all dead, too?'' 
 
 He seemed puzzled, and thought about it for a minute. `` Well now, I do n't know. Does it matter? In this world of yours, we're all alive. You can touch me, ca n't you? Hear me? That's as real as anything.'' 
 
 He could touch me. His fingers on my wrist were suddenly unwanted, a pressure that made me feel slightly nauseous. I stood up quickly, and reached for the telephone on the table. I wanted to talk to my mom, and remember why we'd left. 
 
 I could n't remember, and his smile frightened me, and the way he seemed to be leaning forward slightly, as if longing to grab me again. 
 
 I tried to calm my pounding heart as she continued to smile and I punched in the number, even as I heard its blank buzzing that told me I would n't be able to reach my mom. I was being silly. 
 
 It was alright. It would be fine - if this was heaven, it had to be. The alternative was too horrible to consider - I could n't be stuck in a place I'd hated. What had I done in life to deserve that? What had I done? 
 
 I shook my head to clear it of images that kept flicking in my mind's eye. The car, as it went over the bridge. I remembered the party I'd attended just before that. I'd drunk some wine, but not enough to cause the accident, surely? I had screamed, but I had n't been the only one screaming... had there been people in the car? 
 
 I took a breath, and the images were gone. No, that did n't happen, and this was a good place to be. And I could always leave, could n't I? Leave, and find my mom, probably a younger version of her, and ask her why we had fled this town all those years ago. 
 
 My dad grinned wider, as if he could hear exactly what I'd been thinking, and gripped my hand tighter. 
 
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 Hope you enjoyed my story! You can find more of my work on /r/Inkfinger/.
