I opened my eyes and realized that I was seating on a tattered chair. The iron handle of the chair was rusted, and even the springs were partially visible. I was in my nightgown and without any footwear. I was holding a passport that had a piece of paper resembling a boarding pass. I was on the Airport, and it was empty.
Why am I here alone? Where am I going? And where is Scott? I wondered.
I got up from the chair which made a creaking noise. It was a different Airport, definitely not among the ones I had been to. It had glass walls with a white floor and white ceiling. No check-in counter or any airline banner was on sight. The transparent glass walls revealed the darkness outside. I remembered having drinks with Scott and Marcus the previous night, and before I could try and remember anything else, I saw a huge man in a black hooded overcoat.
I followed him.
I followed him till he reached a door that led to the Departure Gates. I wanted to ask him my questions, but he disappeared in a moment. Before going inside, I turned back. The old chair had vanished.
I flipped opened the passport and realized that it was not my usual passport. There was no information present on it apart from my first name and birth date. All the pages were blank. I checked the boarding pass, and it only had “Gate 13” printed on it.
It was strange, and I was curious.
I was not sure what was happening, I had already pinched myself many times to confirm that it was not a dream.
As soon as I walked inside, a white dress magically replaced my nightgown, and a completely different world presented itself. The ceiling was gone, and I could see the black sky decorated with stars above me. The floor was replaced by earth, and even the glass walls were no longer there. But there were boards mentioning Gate numbers. I kept walking.
The first gate was marked “Gate 7”. I saw a kid seating on the bench. She too was in a white dress. She was bald, and her face was calm.
The next was “Gate 13”, where I saw Scott seating on a Bench. I ran towards him and hugged him.
There was an injury mark on his forehead similar to the one I had on my chest.
Suddenly, it struck me, and I had my answers.
That night after a few drinks at the pub, I had a verbal spat with Marcus, my Colleague. Scott and I then went home; it was around 1am. After some time, someone rang the bell. Scott opened the door, and I heard the sound of a bullet and another one soon after.
I took a seat beside Scott on a bench near Gate 13.
Though I knew the answer, I asked him, ‘Hell or Heaven?'