Alive

Grey had read somewhere that confidence was crucial in making great first impressions. Sadly, the moment he stepped into the hall of elders his confidence took flight. The hall was a large, confusing piece of architecture. It seemed the builder was unsure what kind of building he wanted or he had some mental illness. Mismatched pillars held up the ceiling and the painted windows looked like they were made by kindergartners. The ceiling was so high up; grey imagined it would take at least a week to get to it.

The council of elders consisting of three greying men with stern faces and the type of moustaches villains in the low budget movies grey watched a lot would twirl as they cook up their maniacal plans sat high up on an elevated platform on huge throne like chairs. The elders were almost identical but for their hair colours. The one in the middle who Grey guessed was the head of the council had jet black hair with streaks of gray, the elder on the right had blue hair, Grey could have sworn the one on the left was Dr Cree; super Stan's arch nemesis. He had the same red hair and wild scowl plastered on his face.

"Step forward." The elder in the middle ordered in a voice so full of authority grey wanted to kneel in obeisance.

He stepped forward in three uneasy steps hoping he was showing enough confidence to convince the council of unfulfilled souls. The council existed to judge the dreams and unfulfilled aspirations of the dead. They decided who gets a second chance to fulfil his dreams. If your dreams did not appear noble or inspiring, you didn't get to fulfil them.

Grey had rehearsed his speech so many times he was sure he could convince the council. "What is your name?" The elder on the left asked stroking his moustache as if trying to figure out what to think of Grey.

"My name was Grey, Grey Anderson." Grey replied staring down at his feet nervously. "What sort of name is Grey? Is that not a colour?" The one on the right asked adjusting his spectacles so it sat on the tip of his nose. Grey wasn't sure what to say so he mouthed something that sounded like "hmm uh".

"What is your dream?" The elder in the middle said leaning forward to get a better look at grey. "My dream?” Grey asked scratching his chin and tugging at the wisps of hair on his jaw. All he had planned to say suddenly disappeared. "Yes, young one. What is your aspiration?" The elder on the left asked exasperated. “I have always wanted to be a super hero" grey said with a straight face.

The council erupted with laughter. Grey was not surprised. Everyone he ever told laughed at him. His dad, his mom, his colleagues, the security man at the cinema, they all laughed! "Grey son of Anderson" the elder in the middle said trying to control his laughter to no avail. "Have you tried a career in stand up comedy? The living would pay to watch you!" The one on the left said and they burst into another round of hysterical laughter.

When they finally managed to put an end to their mocking laughter, the elder in the middle spoke.

“Grey, son of Anderson, we do not have time for jokes. Though, this display of folly is highly appreciated. Your dream is not worthy of a second chance. Leave!" Grey was not surprised though highly disappointed. He had hoped they would understand. He had hoped that maybe they would see his Noble intentions. They did not.

He knew better than to argue. He turned heading towards the door half expecting the elders to scream "got ya!" And tell him it was all a joke and he could go back to the land of the living and fulfil his dream. But they did not.

He got out and stood in the hallway filled with unfulfilled souls chatting about their plans and ambitions. They had "realistic" dreams. They wanted to be big shots in the land of the living. Own businesses and make money. Grey did not want money, he only wanted to save lives and fly around in a billowing cape waving at "civilians" who loved him.

He walked with his head down. Out of the building and into the busy streets of the afterlife. Souls went about their daily business which really wasn't much. You see, souls do not need food or money or sleep so all they do is move around aimlessly. Most of them awaiting judgment or already judged by the elders.

“Grey!" Hane called from across the street and headed towards Grey limping with his wooden cane. Hane was one of the oldest souls in afterlife. He knew a lot about everything. He knew the elders by name; he had lived in the afterlife for so long, it seemed he was part and parcel of it. Hane made it his duty to teach the newly admitted souls the happenings in the afterlife. So, when Grey’s soul fell from the ashen sky of the afterlife, Hane was first to meet him. Ever since, they have been friends. "Hey, Hane. How are you doing today?" Grey asked dejected.

"I'm ok but you do not look alright. I am guessing the hearing did not go well." Hane asked now walking with Grey. "You have guessed right." Grey replied with obvious disdain.

"It had to have been Demal! That no good old man." Hane said stamping his feet on the pavement. "Who?" Grey asked. "Never mind my friend. Do not worry. The afterlife is not so bad... It is just, you know, boring." Hane said shrugging.

"Gee! Thanks Hane. I feel so much better." Grey said making sure his sarcasm showed.

"Grey, could you keep a secret?" Hane said with uncertainty in his voice. "I guess..." Grey said half heartedly. "I am serious Grey! Promise me no one but us would know of this." This time the seriousness in Hane's voice got to Grey. "What is going on Hane?" He asked. "Nothing is wrong. Just promise me you will tell no one what I am about to say to you." Hane said. "Ok, I promise no word of whatever you say will be heard by another." Grey said. Now acknowledging the gravity in Hane's voice.

"I have found a way out of here. Into the land of the living" he said emphasizing land of the living part. Grey froze trying to process what he just heard. A way to the land of the living.