Present

Everyday I wake up at the exact same time, 5:50.

I wake up at 5:50, just when I'm about to die in my dream.

I sometimes dream that I'm driving home from work, when a truck out of no where rear ends me, and I some how manage to drown in a lake. Just when I feel the fresh water engulf my lungs, I wake up.

It happens so often that you'd think I wouldn't be scared anymore. But I am, I'm absolutely positively mortified. The worse part is that it seems to be so normal of me to do so.

I wake up, open my blinds, and look out into the city. I can remember the day where I was moving into this apartment, overlooked New York City, and decided this is where I would be. I then walk over to my bathroom, brush my teeth, stare at myself in the mirror long enough to validate that I still exist, that this isn't a dream.

Breakfast for me is the usual as always; two eggs with fresh cut fruit and coffee. Sometimes I mix it up and add a cup of yogurt, or make a smoothie, but for the most part I keep things in my life at a constant.

Walking to work is my favorite part. There's a spring in my step because I'm actually excited to go to work. Always excited. I like to stop by the coffee shop across the street and say hello to my friend Samantha. I met Samantha at a bar my freshman year at NYU. She had been sitting with a guy in my writing class, he slipped a pill into her drink, and I managed to have saved her and take her back to my dorm. Ever since then she's never let me slip out of her life, and I never let her slip out of mine.

"How do you manage to look so happy all the time?"

"It's just kind of a thing."

"Okay Garren, anyways I'll see you tonight, have good day at work."

"You too Sam."

Garren Alowisk, the name written on my birth certificate, high school diploma, college diploma, and on my name plate at work. I walk into work everyday just in time, and always greeted by Henry, the front desk receptionist. I work for a magazine, fortunate enough to have received a job as a writer. I love what I do, it's what I've been doing ever since I was just a little girl from Washington.

Then, I'm greeted by the same warm blue eyes  I've noticed and admired for months. Derek is the intern here at the magazine, incredibly young but bright. He's 8 years younger than me, but his eyes tell me his age is far beyond his looks. Derek is 18, tall, warm brown hair and eyes as clear as the ocean in the Caribbean. Staring into them reminds me of the days when my parents and I would go to the beach. My mother and father walked hand in hand as I ran around picking up seashells so I could make a new necklace. They remind me of the times where I was more spontaneous.

They also remind me of the time where I was in love for the first time. I was 16 when I was in love with a boy named Peter Shmitt. But I was also reminded of when I was 16, and faced to the most difficult question to answer, and still to this day, I wonder whether or not I should have even answered it.

One

I didn't have Friday nights to myself when I was 16.

I took care of the Wilkinson kids mainly on my Fridays. I was a babysitter. I took care of children whose parents went out on date nights. I even took care of children whose mother was cheating on their father every Friday, but it's okay because their father was cheating on their mother every Friday too.

The Wilkinson kids were by far my favorite, mainly because they didn't do anything. Absolutely well behaved and mannered, along with very charming and quite lovable. After dinner all three of them had a tendency to snuggle up on the couch with large blankets and watch movies. I felt like their mother, I felt like I was protecting them from the evil monsters under the bed they had me check for before I would leave.

Will was 10, Adam was 5, and Derek was 8. Adam being the youngest was the most creative. He'd draw me pictures of dragons and tell me stories of how they would come and save me from the evil witches who wanted to take my eyes and keep them as a necklace.

Will being the oldest was much more interested in telling me what he learned in school today. I was always fascinated to hear about him learning where France was on the map, or how rain is formed, or how he wrote a story in class and read it in front of everyone. He was always excited to learn.

Derek was different. He seemed to be the most there, he was aware of the world a lot more than his brothers. He liked to ask me questions about what was going on in the news and what it meant to be racist or a feminist or what the discussion of gay marriage is all about. He was also the only one who attached himself to me. He'd constantly hug me and follow me, it felt like I had a little brother. I loved all of them, but when it came down to it the one I hugged more tightly at the end of the day was Derek.

On a specific night, I had just finished talking on the phone with Peter, I was madly in love with him,and I hope I could say he was as madly in love with me as I was with him. We had a discussion about our future together, considering he was a year old and was graduating that year. I managed to deflect my answer by saying, "I'm at work, let's talk about this later."

We made homemade pizza that night. I thought it would be a fun idea for the boys to make it with me. It came out to be a huge mess of course, but it was worth staying later than usual to clean up the mess.

As we all sat down at dinner table, it was a usual conversation. Today Will was telling us about the story his teacher read to him in class today. It was about a puppy and his owner. The owner loved his puppy very much, and took care of it. He washed the puppy, fed the puppy, played with the puppy, and even walked the puppy every day. As Will described it the story, "reminded me of moms, we are puppies and they take care of us."

All of a sudden, I hear a faint mumble coming from Derek.

"What did you say Derek?"

"What happens after we die?"

"What?"

"Yeah, what happens to us after we die?"

"Where are you getting this from?"

"I read it on the internet. Garry, what happens to us when we die?"

And it that moment, I didn't know whether or not I should change the subject, or attempt to have an 8 year old understand what it means to die.

Two

"Derek, finish eating okay. We'll talk about this later."

"Okay."

And with that, his eyes directed towards the last few bites of his pizza, and the table fell into an unsettling silence.

After eating we set back into our usual ritual of snuggling up on the couch under blankets and watching movies. Adam that day decided to watch Big Hero 6. Derek as usual snuggled up very close to me, but oddly enough fell asleep during the movie. Will left close to the end of the movie, hugging me good night and going upstairs to get ready for bed. Adam and Derek on the other hand both fell asleep during the movie, and I had to carry them one by one up to their rooms.

I changed Adam into his iron man pajamas, and scared away the monsters using the ultra mega super power flashlight he keeps in his room.

I then walked into Derek's room to find him already in bed.

"Garry?"

"Yeah?"

"You never answered my question."

In that brief moment, I don't ever think I was that scared in my life. I didn't know how to tell him the truth. I myself don't even know. When you're dead, you are no longer breathing, hearing, touching, smelling, reacting to anything. Your entire existence stops. It doesn't continue anymore. Your body doesn't function anymore, there's no way to reverse that. You leave this earth, it's as simple as that. But Derek was so young, he wasn't even living his whole life yet. How could I possibly explain to him that no living thing knows the answer to that, because once you die, that's it? His eyes gazed into mine, as if he knew I had no idea how to answer it, so I gave it my best shot.

"Death is um, it's well, um, beautiful."

"Beautiful?"

"Yes it's beautiful."

"I don't get it."

"Okay Derek. We need death. If we don't have death everything around us that's alive will become old and gross. We need things to die in order to make new things. Without death we wouldn't get new cute dogs or new pretty flowers or new super heroes. It's like a circle. I don't want to scare you but, one day you and I will die. And when that happens our souls, the thing that makes us who we are, will be in the universe. We'll be floating around everywhere, and we'll see things we may have never seen when we're alive. It's going to be fun. We'll fly higher than Superman and travel around the world and see some many cool things. And then one day, we'll morph into another living thing, and bring happiness again.  Who knows maybe we'll be kitten and make a little girl happy, or we'll be babies and make a mommy and daddy happy. My point is Derek, I don't know what really happens when you die, but I do know that when we die we're going to explore the world and be everywhere all at once. And then one day we'll make someone happy again, and go around in that circle."

Derek smiled at me, and for once I was more sure of myself than anything when I said that. I gave Derek a hug and tucked him into bed before going home. After that night Derek never asked me the same question again.

Present

Once I'm done with work I usually walk straight home, sometimes I go pick up Sam from her work, but today interestingly enough Derek invited me out to eat so I had to cancel my plans with Sam.

We were sitting in a small cafe about a block away from work. I know nothing about Derek, only the fact that he's an intern from NYU and that he's 18. Other than that I know nothing about him.

"I'm very surprised that you asked me out to eat with you." I said as the waiter placed my sandwich right in front of me.

"Well I figured since you're the only one in the office that's also from Washington I figured why not bond with someone that would understand me more." He said smiling.

"So you're from Washington? What part?" I asked biting into my sandwich.

"Seattle." He responded as he bit into his burger.

We began talking about books. Our favorite books, our favorite genres, any good books we've read recently. And then Derek's mood suddenly changed in the conversation.

"Garren, the reason why I asked you to eat with me was not only to get to know you better, but also talk about an article you wrote."

Derek seemed very nervous as I tilted my head out of curiosity.

"Which one?"

"You talked about death. You said in the article that when we die, ' We'll be floating around everywhere, and we'll see things we may have never seen when we're alive. It's going to be fun.' "

"Oh yeah yeah. Someone asked what does death mean to me, and what happens after. God that was like almost a year ago, how did you remember that?"

"I saved it."

"You saved it?"

I could tell by the way Derek was looking down at his plate there was more to it than just saving it, and now I began to feel worried and even more lost.

"Okay so when I was like 7 or 8 I had a babysitter. She was awesome and smart and beautiful, and I mean beautiful. She took care of my brothers and I so well, she was the best. Her name was Garry, and I asked her that same question, and she told me that same exact thing. And your name is Garren and you're from Seattle and you wrote those exact words so that means it's you Garry."

All of a sudden I hear a crash, the windows from the cafe are being shattered by a car, and I feel an instant force crush my entire body, and throw me across the room. I felt every bone in my body break, I felt lifeless as I flew across the room and hit the wall. My vision is blurry, but I see figures and lights rushing everywhere and as I hear Derek's voice screaming for my name, I feel my entire body giving up. My heart slows down, and I can't feel my arms and legs anymore. I can't move, and I can't breathe. And now I'm suddenly feeling my brain go numb and my eyes are heavy and they're slowly closing as my heart finally stop beating-

And then I wake up.

Gasping for air.

I check my clock.

It's 5:50.