My name is Esperanza Gabriela Maria Santiestevan, I'm six years old and I'm dead. Shot dead. Which, where I live, is becoming an ordinary, everyday thing. Texas – where gunowners rule, and kids get shot.

The angels that greeted me when I got to the big-ass Gate of Heaven really got on my nerves. Not their fault, though. I guess they were just doing their job, you know, trying to make me and the other kids and our teachers feel good. They were all expecting what I was expecting, you know – lots of angels singing, bright sunlight, sparkly clouds, and lots of those chubby baby angels carrying ribbons or musical instruments or something. What we got looked like the DMV my dad used to drag us kids to – lots of chairs, and people waiting.

But even though I could tell there were hundreds who'd been there for what seemed like forever, I was brought to the front of the line like I was Taylor Swift or Billie Eilish. Someone important. What I was, was angry.

I walked under an archway and "poof" I get a pair of wings, which feel really weird sticking out of my back. And then – I swear, no, seriously – I get a tour, like at a museum. And all I want is God to answer some questions.

So, this angel is going on and on about the Kingdom and the Glory and I just lost it. Because ever since I got the wings, all this information gets downloaded into my brain I guess and I know things I didn't know before and though it makes me smarter it's also making me MADDER.

Because I see through all the angelic song-and-dance. All the non-stop divine babbling and God's Best Hits bullshit. He's not here. God's moved on.

I was cheated out of living a full life. I'll never know if it would have been happy or not. I plan on asking God for my life back. And if he says no, then he's gonna have to explain to me the reason why.

When you reject heaven, expect the floor under your feet to disappear. It was a long, long way down, and my wings flapped uselessly behind me. I think they only activate when you say 'Yes.' Good thing is, I land gently. Bad thing is, I don't know where I am. And then my wings fell off.

It was an alley. Filled with dumpsters, and the homeless. At least, they looked like they were homeless. A hiss behind me startled me, and I turned to see a black cat licking its paw. It cocked its head, and said, "Esperanza Santiestevan?"

Normally, a talking cat would have freaked me out. But now I'm one of the walking dead. I've talked with angels and fallen from heaven. "Who wants to know?" I say, with a bit of sass that my mother would have slapped me for.

"Lilith would like me to escort you to her humble home and offer you sanctuary and her hospitality."