The man walks with me through past the desk, and into a little door of which he opens. Inside is a little, grey metal desk and a little grey metal file cabinet. There is a seat right in front of it. He points to the seat, and tells me flatly to sit right there. I sit down, not knowing exactly what he is going to tell me. However, he is going to tell me something I have a feeling which will be suspiring. He rolls open the drawer and starts to go through the neatly lined files, when he rolls one out.

"Alice" he says, "here we go."

He then sits in the little roll chair and puts it in front of me, opening the plastic file which holds a couple pieces of paper, and a little picture of....

Me.

Staring into the camera, looking straight. I'm not smiling. In this picture, I am looking straight ahead. How can this be, though? I don't remember ever taking this picture, but I remember my reflection in the mirror, and there I am.

"Look", he says, "by the way, did you make friends with that boy?"

"I think?"

"Yes" he says, "ah, teenagers. Anyway, you are not dead...."

I look at him, dead stare, and think to myself, that is a very peculiar thing to say. I am not dead? Was I ever alive? I want to ask.

"You are still somewhat alive" he says, "but you are alive none the less, not just in the best of shape. Look, you should know, even though you don't remember your time before this, if you pull through, you won't remember your time here."

"I don't understand..."

"You are in a hospital bed right now...." he says, "and this is the place you stay here, you will have a handler. Someone who makes sure you are okay. However, because you could go back anytime, I think I will take part as your handler. Here's what you should know. You are property of the hotel, while you are here. Depending on your outcome in the other world, you will be here. You may walk on the beach. You may walk around the hotel. You may eat at the little restaurant we have set up."

I don't know what to say. I really have no idea. This is a lot to process. A ton. Just a couple hours ago, I wasn't even sure I exist. Now I am in some kind of limo at this bizarre place while I might be on death's door?

So, I ask the one thing I could: "The boy, what's his condition?"

"Oh him" says the man, "He is probably going to die."

"Die?"

"Yes, and once he does, he will figure out the proper arrangements. You know what you put your head on his shoulder? When you are dead the stakes are less, so you can act on emotion without getting to know someone faster. Just the way it is. Now, you must be hungry..."