A weird dream of mine …

Ryan woke at 7am in the bustling call centre. It was busy… just like the entrance to a superstar concert.

He recognised Jayne, his mum’s best friend in the crowd. Hadn’t she died several years before? She was chatting animatedly to her husband, Jeff.

Hang on?

Hadn’t Jeff also died? Ok not so long ago… but of cancer? Ryan was almost sure.

He wished he had paid more attention to his mother’s phone calls.

Ryan walked across to look out of the window; he was obviously in a sky-scraper of some magnitude. He looked down and saw the lights of the city twinkling below. He remembered his trip to NYC with his parents back in ’99′… this building was way, way, WAY TALLER.

Ryan saw his sister, Holly. He had not seen her in years, yet registration did not flicker on her face.

‘Here is your new desk Ryan,’ a stranger spoke.

‘There? You must be joking! It’s tiny! I’d rather have stayed where I was!’ Ryan answered.

‘You have got to learn Ryan… as I to have had to learn,’ Holly spoke up.

Ryan had a revelation. ‘Holly! You died years ago! You killed yourself when that idiot husband of yours had that affair! This is a dream isn’t it?’

Holly looked back, suddenly pleading, hoping her brother would shut up.

She looked back to her desk, chastened.

Ryan stood. Holly was reading a book and despite the noise; she was purposeful, almost serene. Ryan noticed others ranting and raving in the aisles, while several sat reading… cocooned like battery hens… soulless, anonymous.

Then Ryan recognised another, the daughter of a friend and this time… there was no doubt. She was definitely dead!

He remembered the headlines!

What was going on? This was definitely one weird dream!

‘Ok I should be on the Northern Line with a Starbucks and the Metro newspaper!’ But Ryan did not wake up – instead he ran to the lift but a thousand others had already beaten him to it.

‘GET OUT OF THE WAY! LET ME THROUGH, I WANNA GO HOME!’ Ryan wailed.

The baying throng miraculously evaporated as Ryan lunged to press the ‘Down’ button. The lift duly arrived, doors opening. He took a step but there was nothing below. He swivelled back onto the floor behind, relieved not to have plummeted to his death.

He turned and saw Jayne, Jeff and his sister waiting. Jayne guided him back to the tiny desk as Holly sat philosophising at her desk before him.

‘I am sorry Ryan. You are here to learn what you did not learn in life…’ Jayne said, handing him a book.

It was a tiny book, like one of the ‘Ladybird’ books Ryan remembered from his youth. The title was ‘Ryan doesn’t like women; He wants men.’

Ryan remembered the shame, the self hatred. The school kids who called him names as he grew up… the disapproval from society… the random strangers who had mocked him in the street. Then he remembered the pills… the slashing at his wrists.

He had taken his own life.

A voice from above said ‘Everyone is made in my image Ryan… I loved you so much. Why did you kill yourself?’

Ryan was gobsmacked, dumbfounded. He could not answer.

The voice continued ‘You should have been proud. You all need to learn that I love everyone. I love the whole of humanity… You will have to learn again, I want you to go back to the beginning and start again…’

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