I kicked the door again, trying hard not to touch the icy sides with my torso. I started to sing, songs from my childhood flowed, like the babbling brook slowly building, from my mouth and filled the tiny space with my usual slightly flat renditions of occasional lines from religious pieces linked by random tunes put to the most protected thoughts of my mind. I stared to move my hand along the side of the panel, there I found the temperature sensor.

What seemed like an eternity passed when I heard a door further along open and close. I started banging and shouting as hard and loud as I could, I also covered the thermometer with my hand which would register the change on the outside dial. I caught a muffled scream and realised that my plan wasn’t particularly well thought out. I continued my antics for what felt like another ten minutes, fighting off the cold from the refrigerating unit which was trying to bring the temperature back down to two degrees.

Suddenly the door was wrenched open and the table I was on dragged into the bright light of several halogen bulbs. The light burnt into my retinas making me move my hands quickly to cover my eyes knocking an incoming hand in the process. There was a disconcerting dripping sound and the sound of wet shoes as someone left, presumably having urinated on themselves. I could feel myself being wheeled along the corridors, when again I opened my eyes I was in a darkened room with a doctor and two nurses staring at me.

As much to their amazement that I was alive I found out that I was actually dead, not just dead but dead for over an hour! I didn’t feel dead, I didn’t feel ill or damaged, I felt… normal. I turned to the doctor, “do you know what happened to me?”

“Yes, a nun was on her way to evening mass when she saw you in your wet suit sprawled on the curb side. She also noticed the big red welts that were around your ankles and wrists.”

“What caused them, do you know?”

“We believe it was some kind of jelly fish but they’ve gone without a trace. You truly are a lucky man.”

It was only then it fully struck home. I had just been talking with the creator. I didn’t know why I should have been taken up from Hell, I often spoke highlighting the mistakes and errors of the Bible, with no scientific backing I found it impossible to see how it could be true. Yet here I was in a quirky way like Jesus I had just raised from the dead. Only people were a bit more pleased to see him than the morgue staff were to see me.

Whether they were pleased to see me it did not matter. I have been given a rather broad set of instructions and I wanted to find out more about this religion, its ideals and its understandings. So as soon as I left the hospital I went to my old family church to meet with the vicar.