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Description
Heaven and hell, angels and demons are things that humans invented to understand their world, help keep each other on the 'straight and narrow' and to do what they thought was right. If you did bad things you went to hell, if you did good things you went to heaven. That was how they thought; it was all black and white for them. It's not that simple. It never has been, and never will be. There people who did bad things in order to do something good, like a father killing a man in order to protect his son. What do we class him as? Is he bad because he killed, or good because he saved another life? And what happens if a person truly regrets the bad things they have done? Does that still make them a bad person if they atone for all their misdeeds?

I am one of those people that can't really be classified, much like the rest of the world. Every day we try to do good things, but every day we are also hurting other people. How many times have I snapped at a friend because I was feeling grouchy? How many times have I made someone else cry because of some horrible thing I had done, like taking a favourite toy away from my little sister? Does that make me bad? What about all the other things I have done? All those times when I cheered up someone else, or lent someone a hand? Does that make me good? I guess that's what purgatory is for. It's just a big dumping ground for the unclassifiable ones like me. Which is partly the reason I'm sitting in purgatory right now. The other reason is that I'm dead, but that's more minor in comparison.

It was a rather unfortunate accident that I died. I was sitting on the London underground. There'd been an alert that recently terrorists were moving, but I didn't think I'd be one to die. Not yet, not while I was still this young. I was very clearly wrong. I got caught up in the explosion because I'd been sitting in the carriage that the bomb had been placed in. I would have most likely died if I had been sitting in another carriage anyway, according to the research I did once dead, so I guess it didn't matter much. It had been difficult though, to see my parents desperately trying to call me when there was no way I would ever be able to talk to them again. It was far worse when they had to identify my body. I wasn't exactly intact anymore and most of my lower body had gone, along with a large section of my chest, but I was still just about recognisable to anyone who knew me well.

So here I was, sitting in purgatory with a mug of Irish coffee. I sipped as I looked around. Purgatory wasn't quite how I expected it to be. Instead of being a rather gloomy, misty place that was full of equally gloomy and grey people, I was greeted by a vibrant town full of noise and bustle. In fact the entrance to purgatory was probably the most cheerful café I had ever seen, full of sunlight and bright colours to match. It was a bit unnerving to find that everything you envisioned was completely wrong, but you got used to it pretty quickly, and now I was loving the vibe of purgatory. It was probably the most fun place I had ever been too, only dampened by the fact that none of my living friends were here. I wouldn't want them to be because that would mean they'd be dead, but I still missed them.

I had new friends though, so I wasn't lonely. There was Alphonse, a rather sophisticated young man with a warped sense of humour that wasn't befitting of his elegant name, Cass, a girl who loved her steampunk and walked around with a pocket watch, wearing beautiful dresses that she made herself, and Carlos and Amos, the guitar playing twins. They were both extremely talented and many a night we all sang along while they played. Alphonse had been the first to find me. I thought he was a nice guy until he laughed most immoderately at how I'd died. Then I'd thought him a jerk but he'd grown on me, and I'd like to think that he liked me too. He had introduced me to his friends too, which was rather nice of him.

Some of them had been just a kooky as he was, but some others were nice, like Jeffrey. He was a rather happy go lucky bouncy kind of guy and always managed to spring back from any troubles. However we were more acquaintances, so that's more my opinion on him, having seen him very little. The other guy he'd introduced me too was kind of a jerk and I really didn't like him. I think his name was Stephano or something like that, but either way; he was a snappish short tempered person and very close minded. When we first met he glared at me like I was an intruder and snapped at me, insulting me and telling me to go away. Even Alphonse looked surprised and whispered that Stephano normally didn't react to newbies like this, but since he had taken a disliking to me, it was better to leave him alone.

I'd bumped into Cass in the café where she worked. She'd been very nice and tended to give me drinks on the house. Or at least would have, had not everything been on the house. Things just materialised when we wanted them to in purgatory, so money wasn't needed at all and there was no economy to ruin. However the condition for this was that for every one thing materialised, something else has to go since purgatory has limited space, although that expands for every person that enters. I'd met Carlos and Amos there too, giving the entertainment of background music. It was really cool that purgatory had background music, one of the benefits of coming here really.
In purgatory I had practically everything I wanted. For being dead and an Unclassifiable I was living a pretty good life. Lots of the others here feel this way and we all enjoy the death we were given. I don't know if I was good or bad in life, but to me, purgatory is my heaven.

Description
Heaven and hell, angels and demons are things that humans invented to understand their world, help keep each other on the 'straight and narrow' and to do what they thought was right. If you did bad things you went to hell, if you did good things you went to heaven. That was how they thought; it was all black and white for them. It's not that simple. It never has been, and never will be. There people who did bad things in order to do something good, like a father killing a man in order to protect his son. What do we class him as? Is he bad because he killed, or good because he saved another life? And what happens if a person truly regrets the bad things they have done? Does that still make them a bad person if they atone for all their misdeeds?

I am one of those people that can't really be classified, much like the rest of the world. Every day we try to do good things, but every day we are also hurting other people. How many times have I snapped at a friend because I was feeling grouchy? How many times have I made someone else cry because of some horrible thing I had done, like taking a favourite toy away from my little sister? Does that make me bad? What about all the other things I have done? All those times when I cheered up someone else, or lent someone a hand? Does that make me good? I guess that's what purgatory is for. It's just a big dumping ground for the unclassifiable ones like me. Which is partly the reason I'm sitting in purgatory right now. The other reason is that I'm dead, but that's more minor in comparison.

It was a rather unfortunate accident that I died. I was sitting on the London underground. There'd been an alert that recently terrorists were moving, but I didn't think I'd be one to die. Not yet, not while I was still this young. I was very clearly wrong. I got caught up in the explosion because I'd been sitting in the carriage that the bomb had been placed in. I would have most likely died if I had been sitting in another carriage anyway, according to the research I did once dead, so I guess it didn't matter much. It had been difficult though, to see my parents desperately trying to call me when there was no way I would ever be able to talk to them again. It was far worse when they had to identify my body. I wasn't exactly intact anymore and most of my lower body had gone, along with a large section of my chest, but I was still just about recognisable to anyone who knew me well.

So here I was, sitting in purgatory with a mug of Irish coffee. I sipped as I looked around. Purgatory wasn't quite how I expected it to be. Instead of being a rather gloomy, misty place that was full of equally gloomy and grey people, I was greeted by a vibrant town full of noise and bustle. In fact the entrance to purgatory was probably the most cheerful café I had ever seen, full of sunlight and bright colours to match. It was a bit unnerving to find that everything you envisioned was completely wrong, but you got used to it pretty quickly, and now I was loving the vibe of purgatory. It was probably the most fun place I had ever been too, only dampened by the fact that none of my living friends were here. I wouldn't want them to be because that would mean they'd be dead, but I still missed them.

I had new friends though, so I wasn't lonely. There was Alphonse, a rather sophisticated young man with a warped sense of humour that wasn't befitting of his elegant name, Cass, a girl who loved her steampunk and walked around with a pocket watch, wearing beautiful dresses that she made herself, and Carlos and Amos, the guitar playing twins. They were both extremely talented and many a night we all sang along while they played. Alphonse had been the first to find me. I thought he was a nice guy until he laughed most immoderately at how I'd died. Then I'd thought him a jerk but he'd grown on me, and I'd like to think that he liked me too. He had introduced me to his friends too, which was rather nice of him.

Some of them had been just a kooky as he was, but some others were nice, like Jeffrey. He was a rather happy go lucky bouncy kind of guy and always managed to spring back from any troubles. However we were more acquaintances, so that's more my opinion on him, having seen him very little. The other guy he'd introduced me too was kind of a jerk and I really didn't like him. I think his name was Stephano or something like that, but either way; he was a snappish short tempered person and very close minded. When we first met he glared at me like I was an intruder and snapped at me, insulting me and telling me to go away. Even Alphonse looked surprised and whispered that Stephano normally didn't react to newbies like this, but since he had taken a disliking to me, it was better to leave him alone.

I'd bumped into Cass in the café where she worked. She'd been very nice and tended to give me drinks on the house. Or at least would have, had not everything been on the house. Things just materialised when we wanted them to in purgatory, so money wasn't needed at all and there was no economy to ruin. However the condition for this was that for every one thing materialised, something else has to go since purgatory has limited space, although that expands for every person that enters. I'd met Carlos and Amos there too, giving the entertainment of background music. It was really cool that purgatory had background music, one of the benefits of coming here really.
In purgatory I had practically everything I wanted. For being dead and an Unclassifiable I was living a pretty good life. Lots of the others here feel this way and we all enjoy the death we were given. I don't know if I was good or bad in life, but to me, purgatory is my heaven.