The Portal - 1. The Portal

The Portal

I was sitting at a bus stop. The surroundings looked familiar. In fact, I was under the impression that I was sitting at the bus stop at the end of my street. I thought that by crossing the portal I had just been transported from the basement of the museum to the bus stop and I felt almost disappointed at first. The bus stop was right in front of the museum. I had expected a more impressing impact.

However, I ultimately grasped where I was. I had entered the afterworld. It was not too worried in the beginning. All looked much the same at first sight.

***

It had started two years ago. My Uncle Peter had died and when I helped my mother to clear out the attics I found an old book. I was about to put it in a garbage bag, when it dropped on the floor. I picked the book up and looked at the yellowed pages. They showed mysterious drawings that instantly intrigued me because I have a predilection for all kind of mysteries.

I took the book to my apartment and read it on the weekend. The hand-written book was about secret gates and portals and I guessed that my uncle had written it. I was instantly hooked.

***

The first chapters were about gates and portals that were mentioned in mythology, old legends and tales. I didn’t believe those gates were physical gates. I thought of them more as metaphorical gates referring to some kind of spiritual or psychological transformation.

The secret gate to paradise was mentioned, for instance. Adam and Eve had been banned from paradise and angels with flaming swords have been guarding the entrance ever since. The Book of the Dead and the Book of the Gates, written in Ancient Egypt, were covered in detail and I read on the journey to the netherworld. Ancient Greek mythology was also covered. I read about Orpheus in the underworld and about the gates to Hades. I also read about Norse mythology. Yggdrasil, an immense ash tree, was said to be the world tree around which nine worlds existed. Next to it stood Mimir’s fountain. The tree and the fountain marked the gates to the worlds.

The following chapter was about physical gates like the Sun Gate in Tiahuanaco, built by the early Inca, the Babylonian Isthar gate, and Stonehenge, of course. The Strait of Gibraltar and the Pillars of Hercules were mentioned also. According to Plato’s account, the lost realm of Atlantis was situated beyond the Pillars of Hercules, in effect placing it in the realm of the Unknown. Renaissance tradition said the pillars bore the warning nec plus ultra, serving as a warning to sailors and navigators to go no further.

After hours of reading on ancient mythological gates, I was under the impression that the world was filled with gates that had been built since the very beginning of time. I understood that gates were an essential part of mankind’s history and a vital part of every single man’s life. I understood that man had to set out for a journey, a spiritual quest, in order to find a gate. The mission was vital. Crossing the gate resulted in transformation and life change. There were plenty of gates in the world. Some were physical, some were more spiritual, and some were kind of magical. I found that crossing a gate was somehow mandatory, like travelling to Mecca, Rome or a holy mountain in Tibet. I just had to find the gate that I related most to. I searched the internet, but I did not find any gate that spoke to me.

The last chapter of my uncle's book covered more recent discoveries in physics and astronomy. I read about quantum physics, black holes and wormholes, and the possibility of time travel. I concluded that secret gates and portals existed. It was plausible and there was almost evidence.

That was when my obsession began. I started to research on gates and portals. I practically repeated what my uncle had done. I read books and searched the internet. I copied articles, wrote summaries, and saved the documents to my computer. In the end, I had several folders filled with documents on mythological gates, physical gates and pictures that I had downloaded from the internet. I saved documents on wormholes and time travel and I organized it all neatly. I was occupied for months. I also attended lectures on mythology and physics and astronomy. After one year or so, I found that I was an expert in portals and gates. It was hard work. It was by no means easy with a full time job and family obligations on the weekend. But I managed. After one year I found that I had collected all and I felt the need to sort out what I had found. It took me a few more months to do so and then I realized that I needed to find a wormhole. Walking around Stonehenge would not take me anywhere and setting out to find the gate of paradise would have been downright insane. Only a wormhole would take me to a different place.

I faced serious difficulties, however. Where could I find a wormhole? In the end, I found it by sheer coincidence. I read in the newspaper on an exhibition in the local museum on physics and astronomy and of course I wanted to visit it. I was amongst the first visitors on a Saturday morning. The exhibition was on the first floor and I spent hours there, studying all in detail, but I found nothing new, unfortunately. It was about noon when I decided to leave. I took the elevator to the ground floor, but it took me to the basement instead. I don’t know why it did. Like I said, it was sheer coincidence.

Instead of moving up with the elevator, I stepped out of it and entered the basement of the museum. A dim light illuminated the hallways. I could not resist and walked down the corridors. I saw exhibits and hundreds of wooden boxes and I enjoyed sneaking about furtively. And then I spotted it. A big mirror blocked the entrance to a room. The mirror did not look in any way particular or mysterious. It was an ordinary mirror with a vintage frame. I stepped closer and looked in the mirror. I found I looked somewhat pale. I touched the brazen frame. And then it happened.

A complete blackout. I didn’t know what had caused it. Anyhow, the lights went out. I winced and stumbled forward and fell into the wormhole. Figuratively spoken. I actually fell into the mirror. In fact, I fell through the mirror. I struggled to stop my fall. It was pitch black for a moment. And then I was sitting at the bus stop. I was breathing heavily. It took me a few moments to calm down.

I looked around. The surroundings looked familiar. I recognized the street. I looked back and saw the museum. God, had I in fact encountered a wormhole? Had it transported me here? I had no doubt. What else would have caused this effect? Whatever had caused the blackout in the museum, it had also caused the wormhole effect. I had no idea of how it had happened and what the mirror had to do with it. I had touched the brazen frame when the blackout had occurred. Perhaps this had caused a physical oddity, albeit for the briefest of times. I had no idea at all, but it didn’t matter anyway. Whatever it was, it had transported me from the basement of the museum to the bus stop. I struggled to come to terms with it.

I looked around. The street was empty. No one had witnessed me showing up at the bus stop from out of nowhere. So, unfortunately, no one could back up my story, but it didn’t matter much to me. Now I had evidence. I had crossed a portal. It was all true. It was incredible, past all belief. I remained sitting at the bus stop. I smoothed down my jacket and brushed back my hair. No harm was done, luckily. I took a deep breath. God, what if the wormhole had transported me to some place far away, outer space perhaps? Or what if it had transported me back or forth in time? A cold shiver ran up my spine. It was all true and I could have ended up finding myself entirely lost in space and time. Fear overwhelmed me for an instant, but then I relaxed. No harm was done. I just needed to rise to my feet and go home.

Suddenly, a group of people arrived at the bus stop. I had not seen them coming, which confused me a bit. They seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. This should have alarmed me. However, it did not. I thought that I had just not paid attention. And then the bus came and stopped.

I stood up in order to leave the bus stop. I was not waiting for a bus. I glanced at the other people. Each of them looked around nervously. What was wrong? Was it the wrong bus? The was of an airy blue color. The sight made me wonder. When had they changed the color of the busses? They had always been red.

The bus door opened and a young man jumped out. He introduced himself as Gabriel and he welcomed us warmly. He had long blond hair and very blue eyes. I found his name fitted his angel-like look. I thought he was probably one of the students who studied at the local art school. Anyway, Gabriel handed us city maps and told us that the bus would take a tour around the city and finally stop at the city center. I grasped it finally. The bus was not a town bus. It was a tour bus and Gabriel welcomed those who had booked a tour around the city. I was about to tell him that I had not booked the tour, but I fell silent at the sight of the others. They all gazed at Gabriel in utter confusion. What was wrong? Had none of them booked the tour?

A woman asked the tour guide if the tour was free. Gabriel confirmed. Everybody looked from one to the other and it seemed to me that none of them had planned to take a tour around town. Like myself, the others had also had different plans. I was thinking. The tour was free and it would end at the city center. A tour around the city and a walk home would help me clear my mind and come to terms with what I had experienced. The others apparently also considered taking the free tour. They were talking with each other and with Gabriel.

I finally climbed into the bus and the others followed me. We took a seat. Some looked out of the window and some glanced at the city map that Gabriel had handed to each of us. The bus door closed and the bus moved down the street. Gabriel welcomed us again. He told us that every major point and every point of interest was drawn in the map. The map showed the outskirts also. I tried to unfold the map, but it was too large to unfold it completely, and I wondered why they had made it so big. I folded it, placed it on the empty seat next to me and looked out of the window instead.

I felt surprised at the sight. The town looked neat and clean, the houses were painted in beautiful colors, and flowers were planted on the traffic islands. When had they done it? And why? In order to attract more visitors to town? Last that I heard was that they had not enough money to embellish the city. Then again, I had been occupied with my research on secret gates and portals. Nonetheless, the view of the city really surprised me. An old man felt also stunned. He said that only two days ago he had complained about a hole in the street. We had just passed the point and he had seen that the street was repaired. The man found that this was in fact amazing.

I think that at this point none of us had a clue of the truth. This, however, changed a couple of minutes later when the bus reached a crossroad. A woman jumped from her seat. She was agitated and we all gazed at her. She told us that this was the crossroad where she had run into a car this very morning. She was all in a fluster and told us that the last thing she remembered was that they had taken her to the hospital for emergency surgery. How had she made it to the bus stop? And why was she on the bus? The woman shrieked hysterically. Our tour guide Gabriel rose from his seat and approached her. He placed his hand on her head and the woman calmed down instantly. The scene reminded me of Jesus healing the leper. And then it dawned on me.

I turned my head slowly from one to the other. Everybody was watching the scene and everybody’s face was as white as snow. We were all likewise shocked as the truth sank in. A man touched his chest, probably in an attempt to sense his heartbeat. A woman opened her mouth and then slowly closed it again. Gabriel returned to his seat in the front of the bus, turned to us and smiled at us warmly. We all gazed at him in a state of shock. Gabriel welcomed us again. His voice was melodious and his look was soothing. Reassuring energy emanated from him. We all accepted it as soon as he had explained it to us. We had arrived in the afterworld and Gabriel had picked us up.

***

The bus stopped at the city center in front of a hotel. Gabriel led us into the foyer and invited us to sit down in chairs. We were served a drink that tasted of lemon. We had to wait for about ten minutes. Then another bus arrived and more people were led into the foyer. Gabriel and the other tour guide talked to us and we received brochures explaining the afterlife and the basics of being dead.

We learned, for instance, that there was no time and no currency in the afterworld. All languages were universal, in other words, we were able to understand each other no matter what language we spoke. We learned that our appearance would not change. We would not age and we did not require physiological necessities. Everything, however, was available for our desires, just in case we felt we needed some food or drink or whatever. Gabriel told us we would get over these desires soon, but to make us feel comfortable in the beginning, everything in this area of the afterworld was arranged much like in mortal life. As soon as we were more accustomed to the afterworld, we were free to explore different areas of it. That was why we had received the maps. It showed the afterworld in detail. Unfortunately, the map could never be completely unfolded as the afterlife was infinite.

When the introduction to the afterlife was finished, Gabriel and the other man, or should I rather say the other angel, said goodbye and wished us luck. They left the hotel and we were shown to our rooms. They had told us we could stay in the hotel as long as we wanted. It was organized like a hotel in the mortal world. As soon as we wanted to leave, we could just check out and take a bus somewhere else or find some other way of transportation.

I sat down on the bed and gazed absent-mindedly into the room. I thought of the wormhole.

What exactly had happened in the basement of the museum? Had I really died? Had the mirror broken when I had fallen into it? Had a broken piece cut my throat maybe? I sensed no emotions while I pondered on it. I felt neither fear nor regret. These emotions had ceased when I had accepted that I had arrived in the afterworld. I had watched the others. None of them had complained. They all had accepted the truth quickly. And so had I, albeit only for a short period of time. It all changed when a faint voice in the back of my head raised a bunch of questions. Had I really died or had I crossed a secret portal and was I still alive? Was there a chance to find a way back? I decided to find out about it as fast as I could.

***

I set out to explore the town the following morning. I asked the receptionist where I could find a store as I felt the need to buy me new clothes. The young man smiled at me kindly. He said there was a shop around the corner, but I could just as well materialize new clothes. I refrained from trying, however, and went to the shop instead. Like Gabriel had said, I did not have to pay for my purchases. I was free to pick whatever I wanted. I carried two bags filled with clothes to my room in the hotel and put on jeans and a t-shirt as it was warm outside.

I left the hotel again. It occurred to me that I had not yet eaten anything. I wasn’t hungry and thirsty. Like Gabriel had said, this was an effect of the afterlife. Was I already getting used to it? I spotted a coffee shop and in spite of having no desire to eat and drink, I went inside and ordered a coffee and a sandwich. I sat quietly and I was thinking. I found that I was adapting quickly to the afterlife. Two or three more days and I would be accustomed to it. Would I forget about the mortal world soon? Would I be able to find a way back in time?

I brooded for an hour or so, then left the coffee shop. Nobody stopped me and asked me to pay for my breakfast. I moved around aimlessly for a while, then decided to look at the apartment house where I had lived in the mortal world. Was it here also? I found my street, but all looked different and the apartment house didn’t exist. This convinced me finally. I had not had a dream or hallucination. The house wasn’t there, although the rest of the town looked much like my home town. I was somewhere else and it totally scared me.

I stopped short. I was feeling scared? Had I not observed that fear and regret had ceased. The faint voice in the back of my head laughed mockingly. You are not dead, it whispered to me. My hands were trembling and my mouth was dry as I finally grasped it. They had mistaken me for a dead person. They had picked me up at the bus stop with the deceased. This realization made my hair stand on end. The wormhole had transported me to the afterworld. I was alive among the dead.

I walked around in the city aimlessly. I avoided people. Whenever I spotted someone coming my way, I quickly crossed the road or hid behind whatever. I was alive among the dead. How long could this go unnoticed? What would they do if they found out? Should I try to find Gabriel in order to clear up the matter? Was he able to send me back? I swallowed at my next thought. What if they chose to silence me? Gabriel had calmed the shrieking woman in an instant. What if they chose to make me like they were? I told myself to be on the watch. I had to perfectly play the role of the newly dead. How long did an average newly dead stay in the hotel? This was my given time frame. I had to find out about it soon.

My stomach was rumbling. I gave a mocking laugh. I had only tried to convince myself that I was not hungry and thirsty. I had just been influenced by Gabriel’s words and his soothing aura. I had let him brainwash me. I shook my head. My stomach was rumbling and this was evidence enough. I was alive among the dead. I headed back to the hotel and got me some sandwiches on the way. The receptionist smiled at me warmly when I entered the hotel. So far, the man did not distrust me. So far, he believed that I was a newly dead who had not yet overcome his carnal desires. I took the elevator and then rushed down the corridor. I entered my room and locked the door.

***

I was sitting on my bed, eating my sandwich, and I was pondering. What could I do? I needed a plan, but whatever I came up with, nothing made sense. There was a phone in the room and I looked at it thoughtfully. Why not phone the receptionist and ask him when I was supposed to check out? This would be the easiest way to find out about my given time frame. I was hesitating, though. My stifled voice would warn the man. Then again, talking to him on the phone was better than asking him in person. I picked up the phone and typed the number of the reception. A kind voice answered the call. I cleared my throat and then asked my question. The man answered kindly and told me it was entirely up to me. I could leave whenever I wanted. I asked him what the average stay in the hotel was. He said that most guests stayed for two or three days, but I could of course stay longer if I felt the need to. I thanked him and ended the call.

Two or three days, like I had suspected. One day had almost passed. I had two more days to find my way back home. Any day longer would make them suspicious. I gazed into the room. What could I do? A thought occurred to me finally. The museum. It was still there. I had seen it when I was sitting at the bus stop. The mirror in the basement had transported me here. Was the mirror here also? And what about the blackout? I had stumbled when the lights had gone out. I had fallen into the mirror. Was a blackout essential for passing the gate? Or could I just step into the mirror and pass the portal in order to get back into my world? I had to visit the museum and check if the mirror was there. I decided to go there the following morning.

***

I was barely able to sleep. I tossed and turned. I left the hotel early, but the museum was still closed. I walked around aimlessly again for a while, then I had breakfast in a coffee shop. The waiter watched me from behind the counter. His eyes were sharp and piercing. Did the man see through me and my plan? After all, he was not a mortal being. Gabriel had looked like an angel, probably to make us feel safe, but I did not know for certainty if all inhabitants of the afterworld were kind and good-natured angels. Were there other creatures? What were their skills and abilities? What were their motives? I had no idea at all.

The waiter approached. I winced inwardly. What did he want? I seized my cup tightly and gazed into it. The man sat down next to me. My body stiffened and I did not dare to look up. My heart pounded wildly.

"You appear to be haunted. Why so? Don’t you feel welcomed in the afterworld?" he asked.

My heart stopped for a moment. Had he found out about me? A moment or two passed before I looked up warily. Our eyes met.

"What is haunting you?" he asked.

I swallowed. Should I confide in him? Should I tell him of my predicament? Was he able to help me or would he warn the others? I opened my mouth and licked my lip.

"I fear I’m not dead," I said in stifled voice. I gazed at him fearfully.

His eyes rested on my face and he did not respond for a while. Then he nodded slowly.

"You’re either dead and have not yet accepted it. Or you’re not dead and have not yet accepted it," he said.

He rose to his feet and disappeared into a backroom. I jumped up and hurried out of the coffee shop. His words echoed in my mind. Was he right? Had I just not accepted my death? Had my stomach been rumbling because I had wanted to hear it rumbling in order to convince myself that I was not dead? What had he said also? You’re not dead and have not yet accepted it. That was nonsense. Or wasn’t it? What had he wanted to say?

I headed for the museum. It had just opened. I entered it and walked through the halls. The inside of the museum looked familiar. It had barely changed. I looked for the elevator and spotted it finally. I moved down to the basement. The door opened, I stepped out and looked around. I saw exhibits and wooden boxes. It looked like the museum in my world. I hurried down hallways and corridors. Where was the mirror? I didn’t find it.

I finally sat down on a wooden chest and tears filled my eyes. The words of the waiter came to my mind. Was I dead or alive?

Suddenly, I heard footsteps approaching. I looked up and saw a young girl in front of me. She had long blonde hair and very blue eyes and reminded me of Gabriel. She was another inhabitant of the afterworld.

"Why are you crying?" she asked.

I measured her. Could I trust her? Could she help me? I shrugged.

"I don’t know if I’m dead or alive," I said in a resigned voice. "The waiter said I must accept my state. How can I do so when I do not know whether I’m alive or dead?"

She sat down beside me. I sensed her next to me, albeit it was not a very carnal sensation. It felt as if a soft breeze was touching my skin.

"Do you feel drawn to the afterworld or to the mortal world?" she asked. Her eyes rested on my face warmly.

I lifted my chin. "I feel drawn to the mortal world, even if this does not make sense to you. I came here accidentally. I think so at least. I fell into a mirror. In fact, I fell through the mirror. I passed a portal. Accidentally," I said defiantly.

"What makes you so sure that the mirror was a portal to the afterworld?" she asked.

I opened my mouth, yet closed it again. Yes, what made me so sure that the mirror was a secret gate? I had not doubted that I had crossed a portal. Wasn’t it foolish to think a mirror was a gate? Now that I was thinking about it, it deemed me downright stupid. I had visited an ordinary museum. I had sneaked about in the basement. I had seen all kinds of things. An ordinary mirror, for instance. A mirror was not a portal. Why had I thought so?

"I thought the mirror was a secret portal," I started. "You must know that I had been researching on secret gates and portals for almost two years. I got somehow obsessed with it. I found the mirror in the basement of the museum. There was a blackout in the building just when I touched the brazen frame. I stumbled and fell through the mirror. At least I thought so. And then I found myself sitting at the bus stop. I imagined I had stepped through a wormhole." I paused, wondering if she knew about wormholes. "Stepped through a gate, a portal," I added.

I looked at her. My mind was chaos. My obsession with gates and portals had made me believe that I had been transported from the basement of the museum to the bus stop. It deemed me more logical now that I had had an accident. A broken piece of the mirror had cut my throat. I had died and had entered the afterworld. There was no way back. I had ended up here. A sob escaped my mouth.

The girl reached out her hand and touched my cheek softly. The touch felt like the rays of the sun tickling my skin.

"So I’m really dead," I said, sobbing once more.

I looked into her blue eyes. They were deep and drew me in. Her look was serious, yet at the same time warm and kind. She shook her head faintly.

"The deceased get over the shock quickly. They get accustomed to the afterlife soon. We are there for them when they enter the afterworld. Most of us are invisible to their eyes. Only few of us make themselves visible. But we accompany them. We watch every step they take. We walk by their side. We calm their shattered minds and we sooth their broken hearts and we heal their shaken souls," she said.

"Like a guardian angel," I said slowly, my eyes fixed on her face.

A smile appeared on her lips. "We walk in your world also, yes," she confirmed.

A shiver ran through my body. I gazed at her. "Don’t say you are…," I started.

She gave a faint nod. "Yes, Benjamin, I have been walking by your side. I have never left you," she said. "I will never leave you. As long as you need me, that is," she added with a graceful smile.

I gaped at her. "Who are you? What is your name?" I asked under my breath.

"Nanael," she said with another smile. "I’m said to be the angel who governs the sciences and philosophy."

She smiled impishly now and gave me a wink. Her airy demeanor had disappeared. She looked like a carnal girl now. I gaped at her even more.

"The sciences and philosophy," I repeated her words.

"You enjoyed your research very much," she replied. "Ancient Egypt. Greek and Norse mythology…"

"Physics and astronomy," I said.

She tilted her head slightly. The truth dawned on me.

"The book," I said.

She nodded.

"Uncle Peter did not write the book. You wrote it, didn’t you, Nanael?" I asked.

I gazed at her in wonder. She leaned in a little.

"I placed it there for you to find," she said. "I did not write it myself. You know a little about the afterlife meanwhile. Things work different here."

I nodded slowly. "But why…?" I started.

Her look grew serious. "You wished to be prepared for what you must go through. Your soul wished to be prepared, Benjamin, because deep in your heart you knew that this day would come," she said.

I felt confused. What was she talking about? "Which day? What do I have to go through?" I asked. A shiver ran through my body. "You mean my stay in the afterworld?" I asked.

She tilted her head. "Yes," she said seriously, and then smiled again. "You don’t give up the thought, don’t you?" she asked. "You are still convinced you will leave the afterworld and go back to the mortal world, aren’t you?"

I looked at her for a moment, and then turned my head away. I was pondering. I nodded slowly.

"Yes, in fact, I still want to go back. I still can’t believe I’m dead. I’m still convinced I came here accidentally. It’s a mistake," I replied.

I looked at her. Her eyes rested on me and she smiled. I shrugged.

"I just can’t give up the thought. It’s my fault and only I am to blame. I brainwashed myself. My research on secret portals and gates turned into an obsession and I just can’t accept my death," I said.

Nanael gave a soft laugh. "Good, Benjamin. I’m happy to hear that my efforts were not in vain. I was by your side always and I whispered in your ear," she said.

I felt hot and cold at the same time. The faint voice in the back of my head. Had it been her voice? Had she spoken to me?

"But why, Nanael? What’s it all about? I don’t understand," I said, my heart pounding fast.

She reached out her hand and touched mine. She smiled warmly. "It’s time for us to go back into your world," she said softly.

"What?" I asked. I was totally confused meanwhile. Had she not tried to convince me that I was dead?

Nanael smiled again. "Come, Benjamin," she said. "I’ll lead you to the portal."

Portal. The word revived me and I rose to my feet. Nanael was still holding my hand. She walked down the corridor and I walked by her side. We turned around a corner and there it was. The mirror with the brazen frame. I let out a cry of joy. Nanael squeezed my hand and this time it felt totally real. I glanced at her with surprise. She gave me another smile.

"Your firm belief in secret portals and gates saved your life, Benjamin," she said with a grave look.

She reached out her hand and touched my cheek.

"You need to go back now, Benjamin," she said. "This all happened for a reason. Don’t forget. You will know your new goal very soon."

I opened my mouth. But she placed her finger on my lips.

"It is time, Benjamin," she said.

"Just one more question, Nanael," I said urgently.

She gave me a questioning look.

"Don’t you feel lost in the mortal world? After all, you are not a mortal being," I said.

Nanael gave a soft laugh. She smiled impishly at me and gave me a wink.

"You know, Benjamin, I can wander between the worlds. I do not need portals. I can be in the afterworld and at the same time by your side. It’s all about perspective and freedom of the mind," she said.

I gaped at her. She smiled again. I swallowed and squeezed her hand.

"Thank you so much, Nanael," I said in a hoarse voice.

Nanael nodded faintly and then she stepped into the mirror and drew me along.

***

It was pitch black for a moment. I blinked once or twice, and then I opened my eyes. I was in a room and the light was dim. Someone had drawn the curtains shut. I turned my head and saw my parents sitting in chairs. I was confused. Where was I? Was I lying in a bed? It felt so at least. Why were my parents sitting by my bed? My mother was sobbing. My father had placed her arm around her shoulders. My mother leaned in and cried against his shoulder. My father closed his eyes. I swallowed. Something was very wrong.

I gave a hoarse cough. My father opened his eyes and my mother turned her head to me. They gazed at me for an instant, then my mother stood and reached out her hands. She seized my hand and held it tightly.

"Benjamin," she uttered under her breath.

"Mom," I said.

I found it hard to speak. I turned my eyes to my father. My father was crying. He rose to his feet, however, when our eyes met. He made a step towards me, yet stopped within the movement, pressed a button instead and hurried towards the door. A couple of moments later a team of doctors and nurses entered the room.

***

I had awoken from a six weeks coma. I was on intensive care. They had stopped all life sustaining measures in the morning and had prepared my parents to let me go.

I recovered slowly. It took me months to heal completely from an apoplectic stroke. No one thought it possible, but I recovered completely against all odds and beliefs. Nanael was by my side always. I did not see her, but I knew she was there. I sometimes heard her faint voice in the back of my head, and sometimes I sensed a faint breeze tickling my skin. I knew for certain that it was her.

They told me later that they had found me in the basement of the museum, hours after I had suffered the stroke. They found me unconscious and lying on the floor. There had not been a blackout in the building. The stroke had affected my brain. They took me to the hospital. I was in a coma and my chance of survival was little. My parents fought and struggled, they hoped and prayed. When the doctors told them that they had done all that was humanly possible and that there was no hope for me to ever wake up, my parents decided to let me go. They did not want me being trapped in a world between, which in their eyes a coma was. They were convinced that I could neither come back nor enter the afterworld and they wanted to save me the pain.

I did not tell them about the bus stop, the hotel and that, but I told them of Nanael. My parents were touched deeply and they believed my words, but we kept it to ourselves as many people do not believe in these things.

***

I recovered slowly, but ultimately I started to make plans for the future. I didn’t want to return to my old job. I didn’t want to sell stuff in a store anymore. And then, like Nanael had said, an opportunity arose. A physiotherapist school opened in my town. I saw a new goal. I entered the school in autumn last year. I want to help injured and handicapped people.

I’ve given up my intensive research on gates and portals, but I know that my obsession helped me to stay alive. I had not been able to acknowledge my death and this ultimately helped me to come back and wake up. My life has changed and my beliefs have changed drastically. In a sense, I stepped through a portal. And I do believe in Nanael’s words. I believe that all happens for a reason.