Short Story: A Moment in Heaven, Ends as a Curse

Hey GUYS! Been a while since I posted right? WELL IM BACK! For a while… Anyway, I’m trying something different! Here’s just a short story I had to write for school, thought I should just post it here!

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There was a man, who lived during the time of Kings and Queens, knights, and the Crusade. He went by the name Alexander, but he was like a diamond in the dirt, a rare gem in the middle of everything ordinary. Born into a poor family, he lived in a small wooden hut that had barely enough room to fit three people. Alexander lived with his wife, who was not strikingly beautiful but was of kind and uncorrupt mind. In the small wooden hut, Alexander and his wife had two sons and one daughter. Unlike most people of that time, and even the modern era, Alexander was humble, honest, and sincere. Not only did he not wish for wealth, he loved his family more than anything. Or so he thought.

One day, after a night of hard work at the field and a bit of drinking, he fell into a deep slumber. He started to slowly open his eyes, and allowed the light to flood in. When he opened his eyes, he found himself on a gigantic bed with a silk lined blanket and a golden frame. As he slowly stood up, he could feel the headache from the previous night of drinking. Slowly staggering across the gigantic room, he tripped over a rug, hitting his head. After recovering from the pain spreading across his head, he started to grow conscious of his surroundings. He was no longer in his small hut, but in a castle, colossal enough to house giants. Surprised, Alexander scurried backwards, and bumped into a man walking by. The man quickly apologized and begged Alexander to spare him. Alexander looked back, thinking someone was behind him, however all he saw was a reflection of himself in the mirror. It wasn’t the first time looking at his reflection, but something seemed extremely off. He dashed towards the mirror and inspected himself. This body wasn’t his. It didn’t have his brown hair, but rather blonde hair. Quickly, he asked the man, who was still on the ground begging for forgiveness, who he was. The man looked puzzled, but replied in a shaken voice – still afraid that Alexander, or whoever he was now, would lash out at him. Alexander, now apparently Duke Alfred of York, dismissed the man, and sat down in a leather chair that was beside the magnificent bed. Wondering if it was all a dream, he pinched, slapped, and even hit his head against the wall. After a long time of thinking, he came to the conclusion, he had somehow received the body of Duke Alfred and it was his duty to carry the day out as how Duke Alfred would have. So he walked down the stairs, and eventually found the dinning hall, where he found rows and rows of food on the table, with exotic dishes, seasoned with rare Asian spices. After eating till he could no longer button his clothes, he made his way over to the fireplace, where he snoozed off in the comfy chair, for what seemed like eternity. Feeling refreshed, he stood up and took a stroll outside around the garden and made his way out of the vast castle grounds. As he approached the market square, he realized he was no longer poor and could spend as much as he wanted! A man, who was known to be selfless and frugal, was now corrupted with the temptations of money. He spent money excessively and unsparingly. Anything that caught his eye he bought. Whether it is a loaf of bread, or a gold necklace. As the sun began to set, he headed back to the castle grounds. As he stepped inside the castle grounds, he could feel his spirit being ripped away from the body and losing consciousness.

When he awoke, he was neither in the gigantic bed in the castle nor his small hut. For a whole day, he was given the luxuries of wealth, and now he stood behind two different doors. The left door led back to the castle, while the other led to the life he had lived before. A voice sounded in his head. To proceed to the left door, he must kill the Duke, who stood a few meters away. In a split second, thousands of thoughts went across his mind, however not one of those thoughts were about his wife, or his children. Alexander’s mind was made, he acted in a single second, and he lunged at the Duke. As the blood oozed to the floor, he realized that it wasn’t the Duke he killed, but rather his wife. The terror and guilt, slapped him in the face, he stood there, frozen on the spot, staring at his hands, which held the knife that he used to kill his one and only wife. All he wished then was that he could turn back time and undo his mistake and stop his mind being corrupted by the temptations of wealth.

The anger and suffering was too much for him to handle. So he grasped the handle of the blade and tried to stab himself with it. However, his efforts were fruitless. The blade would no longer penetrate, and the pain and frustration carried on, edging him closer and closer to madness. Finally, he snapped. Without looking back, he left both doors the way they were and started to wander around, yearning for a second chance. Hoping, that it was a dream. Wishing, that he could somehow end the pain.

– Artyy

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