Bang

Bang

Bang

 

there were more shots but her spirit had already taken off like a rocket shot out into the ether of the outer realm — she didn’t hear them, didn’t feel them.

 

Body buoyant gliding through this starry sky,

passing planets,

moons, and galaxies.

An invisible force moves her and she has no control over this motion.

 

She watches stars die,

new galaxies form,

gasps and sigh in wonder from what she sees

her body, translucent.

 

She can’t feel the weight of it like before, her body now light as a feather being blown by a steady gust of wind, taking her somewhere. She moves slightly to the left and turns over to see all that is below, and turns back around to see what is above.

 

Black holes, shooting stars, space ships and rockets going by were more than she could imagine

 

Not once thinking of what happened

before she went to bed,

before coming home from work,

before being shot into the starry sky that she now finds herself flying in.

 

Her body moves farther and farther away from everything she has ever known for a hour that felt like minutes, she approaches a large white cloud, her body slows down, enters it and floats down to the surface of this cumulus cloud. A glowing light appears above her head, and forms into an eye that opens slowly.

 

She can hear people calling her name, crying, her mother screaming and sobbing.

 

The eye flashes images

her boyfriend being taken away in handcuffs, a press conference with her family, a protest at a city hall in Oakland with people chanting

 

“Justice for Breonna Taylor.”

 

She can’t believe the eye’s vision and is searching for feelings of anger and grief, but they are gone. She is searching for any emotion and all she feels is calm and a deep curiosity about where she is. It’s at this moment, she realizes that she is no longer on earth, no longer human but a spirit.

 

“What is going on? How did I get here? Why am I here at all? I must be dreaming.”

 

she says to herself and tries to wake up, but each time she closes her eyes and opens them she is right back in the cloud.

“If I’m dead then…” She calls for God.

The eye closes up, and is replaced with the glowing light,

God! She calls again.

God where are you? her mind says.

“How in the fuck am I’m dead?”

 

God! She yells.

 

The glowing light flickers, the white cloud flashes luminescent colors until it forms a dark figure, slowly materializing into this giant glistening black woman. God’s dress is made of clouds that hang beautifully on her body and move like chiffon. The semi transparent covers Gods body from neck to feet. What she can see completely is her beautiful Mahogany face, her long braided hair with gold implements on it and her hands.

 

God opens her mouth, and the sound of ambient music came out with the bass of an 808 drum, and sent a vibration through Breonna's body. God’s words were the frequency of tuning forks, tonal changes increase and decrease vibrations ran through Breonna's body. She was amazed that she could understand everything God is saying.

 

(Translation)

 

Welcome back Reflection. You are in the Land of Ascension; this is a holding space for the recently transitioned. It is here you will stay until your family has finished your burial rights, after the world finishes their mourning rituals and you have completed your After Earth courses.

 

Classes, I gotta take classes?

 

Why yes Reflection, how are you gonna be a blessing to the living if you don’t learn what to do? That living brain is still running things, that will have to shift to be any good to anybody on this

side of existence. First you will take Communicating with the living 101. Then Intro to Answering Prayers, Basic Shape Shifting and lastly Tormenting the Guilty level 1&2. Once you’ve completed your courses you will be transported to the Angel Academy.

 

Okay, okay let me get this straight I’m really dead and now I’m gonna be an Angel? Why?

 

This is a rare occurrence but not many complete their mission on earth in their first lifetime. This must be rewarded. There is no need for you to go through the lessons of saving people and correcting missions when you’ve completed yours. You will serve the afterlife well with what you’ve already been through.

 

So, you’re saying after I leave here, I’m getting promoted to Angel status?

 

That’s exactly what I am saying, Reflection. You made all the good mistakes to get you where you needed to be and you made all the right choices that created the story of your legacy. Sometimes we go to earth to be the lesson, sometimes the blessing. You made sure you were both. I'll let you hang out in Angel Academy for a lil’ while. You will enjoy the vibe up there and you will gain the understanding of what happened to you and why. You’ll get to visit family friends while you’re there, try not to scare them ok? When your time is up there you'll be transported to the final realm of the ancestors. You have lots of work to do when you get there.

 

I thought when you die you rest in peace?

 

The bass drum sounded harder than ever vibrating intensely, lightning struck in a few places. God was laughing. It was that good ole knee slapping kind where if one were human tears would fall and pee would slip from the body uncontrollably but this was God so it was none of that. Breonna smiled slightly knowing she brought such a joyous ruckus to God. This was a serious question though and she wanted a real answer, yet all she got was more vibration, snares, kick drums and ambient sounds trailing off while the sight of God was engulfed in the luminescent clouds.

 

The End.

 

Breonna’s Dream was written by Bushmama Africa aka Oya Miwa a priestess of Oya. Oya is the Yoruba deity who watches over the dead. Oya essence is our first and last breath on earth, whose home is the marketplace and the gates of the cemetery. She is the owner of the wind, the mother of 9 and the change agent of the world.

This story was published in The Arrow Journal Volume 10 Issue 2 " Undisciplined Archives: Dreaming Across Black Geographies. You can see all the amazing writing in this journal including this story here