Prologue
My name is George Michael Anderson, I’m of Anglo-Scottish descent,, I was born in Townsville, Queensland, Australia. I group in a loving family with two younger brothers. When I graduated from highschool my parents and my best friend’s parents paid the deposit for a two bedroom apartment near Sydney University. I was taking a course in Military History. After finishing the course I moved to Notre Dame university to take up a double major in teaching and theology.
Last week my friend and I, after finishing the last of our studies, sold our apartment for just of a million AUD. After paying off the rest of the mortgage we decided to travel to the USA together. We have visited New York, Washington, Boston, Chicago and Dallas. We are currently visiting in Las Vegas, my mate is in the casino we’re staying at playing blackjack. I myself could never quite get into gambling, with a notable exception to the Melbourne Cup.
Right now I’m walking past an Islamic Mosque in Las Vegas, behind me I hear woman scream and see a tall man, bald, blue eyes and pale skin. He has a balaclava covering his face. He has an ACR assault rifle. I hear a loud bang then my ears start ringing. I turn around and begin to run. I feel something hit my head, it feels like a sledgehammer, then blackness.
I wake up on a cream leather couch. I sit myself up, my head is ringing with pain. I look in front of me, there’s a mahogany coffee table and another coach of the same design. There is a caucasian man sitting there with a white suit and orange tie. He has blonde hair and is clea
“Who are you?” - George
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
“I’m Michael, I’m here to discuss you… unusual circumstances. You see, moments ago you were shot dead by an individual who was less than intimate with the Islamic community.” - Michael
“So why am I here, and where is here” - George
“well you see, George, you are in Dante’s Paradiso, per say. Now more importantly, current policy regarding individuals who die in a state of grace but whose soul are cannot judge themselves due to a short lifespan or lack of moral exercise is to reincarnate them in another world.” - Michael
Whilst this Michael was explaining this I remember where my middle name ‘Michael’ came from.
“Michael, sorry to interrupt, but are you an Archangel?” - George
“Yes” - Michael
“But anyway now that I’ve explained the lot of it you’ll be heading to your new life. You’ll wake up in the body of a 12 year old who's just dies of Cardiac arrest. God bless” - Michael
Suddenly, before another word comes out the world turns white. When I come too I realise what Michael had said about being on the body if a twelve year old was true. Great