7 Minutes In Heaven Novels & Stories

In that one second, everything was wiped clean. The last thread of my affection for him snapped. Just then, a message came from my aunt, reminding me to text her when I landed safely. I replied, "Don't worry," and then turned off my phone. I turned and boarded my family's private jet, which was waiting for me on the tarmac. A seven-hour flight. Just enough time for me to replay the last seven years from beginning to end. Clouds churned outside the window. I didn't turn on a light, letting the tears fall in silence.

I’m greeted to a beautiful suite where there’s a plush queen-sized bed in the center of the room and a little bench at the end of it, a big screen TV mounted on the wall facing the bed, 2 swivel seats, and a table in the middle of it, and there’s a couch in the small hallway that leads to what I assume is a private bathroom. “Okay, I’m never leaving this plane again cause this is my idea of heaven.” I declare, walking towards the bed, dropping my bag and jacket on it. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The plane touches down in New York exactly 5 hours later, and it’s almost midnight, and yet the first face I see when I walk down the steps is the Devil himself waiting at the bottom. “Huh, ain’t I lucky? T

Jordan If heaven is real as they said it was, I found it in the soul of this young guy I have under my clutches. Maybe not heaven itself—its gate. But I sure as hell was standing at the entrance, with a full hope of going in. In one week, I've unwrapped a new version of Preppy. One goddamn week is all it took, and even if I'm getting the reaction I'd dreamed of, I craved to see more. So much more.

The measure had long since passed 27 ounces, but he didn't show any sign of stopping. My field of vision was already starting to go dark, and I felt energy and warmth being drawn out of my body mercilessly. Along with it, went any last vestiges of lingering affection I had, left from the thirty years we spent together. And so, I passed out again. When I woke up again, I faced a white ceiling, the overwhelming scent of disinfectant, and the inside of my arm, bruised and swollen from being punctured. I wasn't dead. In the room next door, I heard Mia's delicate sobs.

The lyrics hit the chorus: “Ridică-te din noapte! / Rise from the night! Furtuna vine! / The storm is coming!” We hit the chorus together—six voices, one promise. Julian waits at the private airstrip with a blacked-out jet that looks like it was built for gods, not mortals. He’s in a crisp suit, no coffee mug this time, just a single silver briefcase. Julian (nodding): “Shambhala’s gate opens in forty-seven hours. You ready to make them regret inviting you?” I step off the Suburban, board under my arm, crown pieces humming in my veins.

167 BPM. “I can’t lose you,” he said. Simple. Gutted. “Either of you. So we go.” --- [SFX: PRIVATE JET. 38,000 FEET. SILENCE. THEN MY VOICE.] Four hours later. IV in my arm. Levinson across from me. Adrian in the seat beside me. Hasn’t let go of my hand since takeoff. No Marcos. No Susan. No Knight Tower. Just ocean below us. And 167 BPM on a portable monitor.

he murmured, pulling out of the driveway. There was a comfortable silence between them for a while — the kind that carried an unspoken warmth. Cynthia glanced sideways at him as the city rolled by: the way his hands rested steady on the wheel, his jaw set in quiet focus. There was something grounding about him, something she hadn’t noticed before. After a few minutes, she spoke again. “So… can I at least know how long the flight is?” “About seven hours,” he said simply. Her eyes widened. “Seven? That’s not within Africa, is it?”

If I saw you in heaven Would it be the same? If I saw you in heaven I must be strong And carry on 'Cause I know I don't belong Here in heaven Would you hold my hand? If I saw you in heaven Would you help me stand? If I saw you in heaven I'll find my way Through night and day 'Cause I know I just can't stay Here in heaven Time can bring you down Time can bend your knees Time can break your heart Have you begging please Begging please Beyond the door

But oh, sweet summer will be here With my memories of old. Soon you'll cross the distance, wherever you're from. I just need to hang on for my 7 days to come. I slowed the pace, let the last notes hang in the air, fill the room. 7 days, please come. Silence lingered, and I slowly opened my eyes. Then, the room erupted into applause. God, I loved that rush. Nothing like it. Grinning, I took a quick bow and announced last call. When I made my way back to the bar, Matt's seat was empty.

Heaven wrapped itself around the two of them and held them tight for a moment of bliss. She hated that it was over, but happy it had happened. She wished she didn't have to wait for the next time she had him like this, but he had a plane to catch. Their ten minutes in heaven were up. “Time to get going,” she whispered, but she didn't move to help him up. She liked the feeling of his weight like a blanket on top of her. “Just five more minutes,” he muttered into her ear. “Don't make me use my mom voice,” she warned. He opened one eye and looked at her. She raised her chin up so she could look down her nose at him. “Ethan White, you get up and get on your plane right this instant.”