She stood in front of me, looking me up and down. Her eyes were as bold and blue as mine, and her skin was as pale as snow. We were the same height, and had the same birthmark on our necks. But that was the only similarity between us. She was significantly older than I, and was also much thinner and more muscular. Her hair was long and soft looking, compared to my straw-like locks with split ends. Her back didn't hunch, and she stood with confidence. Finally, she spoke.
"Well, I didn't really know what to expect of you, but I knew it'd be good," she smirked.
I raised my eyebrows. "Is that sarcasm?"
"Oh no, of course not," she grinned. "I mean, look at you. You're a female Gollum with longer hair."
"Why would you even talk down to me like that? We're literally the same girl!" I shouted, offended.
"No, Bella. You're the girl, and I'm the woman you wanted to be," she replied in a serious tone.
"What makes you think I would've been you?" I demanded.
"Bella, you wanted to be me. You wanted to join the Navy. You wanted to move far from home. You wanted a career, and you wanted to go to college," she said sternly. "You were capable of that. The Navy recruiter was dying to get you in. Colleges were begging you to join them. You were offered a full ride to the perfect university across the country."
"And you think I would have been successful? I could've died," I said.
"Bella, we are the same person! If you would've died in the Navy, you wouldn't be talking to the very same woman who was successful in the Navy and got a masters degree!" she shouted.
"The person I could've been must've died somewhat young! You hardly look 35!" I protested.
"Oh, really, compared to your tragic death at 20?" she mocked. "I chose to show you what the best year of your life looked like. I'm not 35, I'm 47. This is what health and happiness looks like. I died at 96. You could've died at 96," she said.
"You're just showing me what I could've been if I could do the impossible," I said angrily. "Realistically, I couldn't have been you."
"I am what you could have been realistically," she said. "An unrealistic view of what you could've been would be someone famous, or someone curing cancer. But this, this simple woman who followed her dream and worked at it-- it could've been you. All you had to do was give it some effort."
"I don't believe you," I said sternly.
"Bella, you needed to tell someone. You think you're the only one that know what killed you?" she asked, approaching me.
"I don't care if anyone finds out. Accidents happen, people die," I responded.
"Accidents," she smirked. "Bella, I can read your mind. I know what happened. You know why people think the suicidal go to Hell?" she asked.
"So they can be interrogated by themselves?" I asked sarcastically.
She looked me in the eyes. "You're not in Hell, okay? This is Heaven, believe it or not. But everybody, regardless of where they go, gets to see the person they could've become. It's never bad for people that die from something beyond their control and go to Heaven. You know why?"
"Why?" I asked, rolling my eyes.
"Because the person they meet is the exact same as who they are!" she exclaimed. "They don't have regrets, they only see the same person that they were on Earth. They get to truly speak to themselves, and see that life couldn't have been better in any other way. They pushed through difficulties, they worked hard. They didn't give up. And if life became unfair and killed them off, the person they meet up here wouldn't be any different, because untimely deaths are out of their control."
My heart began to ache.
Her voice grew softer as she spoke. "You had the choice to make your life something better than what it was. You chose to end it, and now you gotta stay with it."
"Are you sure I'm not in Hell?" I asked, tearing up.
"Bella, Hell isn't real. Everybody goes to Heaven. This place becomes Hell when you decide to ruin it for yourself on Earth," she explained.
"Can't I get another chance?" I begged. "I'll do anything to redo my life!"
She smiled sadly, and put her hand on my shoulder. "You should've done something when you were still alive. Suicide isn't going to make your life better. It's going to follow you around forever. That's what happens when you decide to permanently resolve what was just a temporary problem."