Death. It has always scared me. The thought of what comes after—or what doesn't—haunts my mind. The more I think about it, the more terrified I become.
What if it's just... darkness? No sound, no smell, no sight, no touch. Not even the ability to scream. Just a void where I no longer exist. But what does it mean to not exist? If I'm still aware of the emptiness, do I truly not exist? Or is that existence in its cruelest form?
But let's backtrack. What if there's reincarnation? What if I get another chance, like in those books and stories? The idea of being reborn in a different world brings a faint smile to my face. Another world, another chance—that's exactly what I need after everything that's happened.
I sigh. Heaven or hell? I hope neither exists. I already know where I'd end up, and it wouldn't be a good place.
...
So many questions and no answers. Isn't that the way of life? Isn't that right, everyone? Am I not right?
I glance at my family sitting around the table, their laughter and smiles filling the room with warmth. It's a bittersweet feeling. Joy, because their presence comforts me. Sadness, because...
With a deep sigh, I stand. They look at me, puzzled. "It's okay, guys. I'm just getting some water," I say, walking to the kitchen. I turn the faucet, but nothing comes out. Right. It hasn't worked in ages. Stupid me.
I grab a bottle from the cabinet and take a drink. The smell of rotting meat lingers in the air. I should clean that up soon.
Returning to the living room, I see my family again, talking and laughing. My son is seven now. Time has flown by so quickly these past few years. My wife… she's as beautiful as the day we married. Meanwhile, I feel stuck. Trapped in time.
Stuck.
...
...heh.
Hehehe. Hehehehe. Ahahaha. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
"FUCKING STUCK! STUCK, STUCK, STUCK! IN THE SAME PLACE, OVER AND OVER AND FUCKING OVER! WHAT DID YOU EXPECT TO HAPPEN?! WHAT? IT'S OVER! EVERYTHING! WHAT MATTERS ANYMORE?! WHAT?!"
...
....
.....
Deep breaths. In. Out. Everything's fine. Just breathe. Get up. Apologize. Everything is fine.
"I-I'm sorry, guys. I-I just had..."
I reach out, touching my wife's hand. Her skin is cold. Too cold.
"Honey? W-why are you so cold?"
The more I touch her, the more I feel her skin give way, peeling under my fingers. Her eyes—they're lifeless. Her body is motionless, cold as ice.
"H-honey? W-what is happening? L-love? Answer me! WHAT-"
And then I see it. She's dead. Her body reeks of rot. Her eyes are as empty as a doll's. My wife is dead.
I look at my son. He's the same. Cold. Lifeless.
Dead.
Dead. Dead. Dead? Really? Dead. Not joking, right? No. No, they're dead. I'm sure. But… who did this? Why? How?
Questions pile up. No answers. Isn't that right, everyone? Am I not right?
Anyway, I should clean up this mess. Who are these people, anyway? I don't remember them. That woman, that boy… I don't know them. I don't need to.
I drag the bodies to the backyard. Trash belongs outside. They've started to stink.
I return to the table and sit, staring at the bloody knife planted in its center. Did I put it there? I don't remember. Strange.
No, wait. I think I do. I was trying to create a masterpiece. And I think… I succeeded. What was it? I can't recall.
It doesn't matter. I should clean the blood off the walls and my clothes. But I'm too tired. Too lazy. Let's just end this already.
Let's hope the next me is more productive.
I pull the knife from the table and walk toward the bodies.
I lie down between them, staring up at the night sky. It's as beautiful as ever.
Do you know what I believe happens after death? I think it all starts over. Life is a loop—an endless cycle of birth and death. A paradox of time.
We die over and over, by any means—old age, violence, or even suicide. But at the end of it all, we're reborn. We begin again. Again and again.
Isn't that wild, everyone? Am I not right?
Well. It's time. The next me is waiting.
I plunge the knife into my throat without hesitation. The blade cuts deep, slowly draining my senses. It's messy, disgusting. I'd prefer something more elegant, but you take what you can get.
As the darkness closes in, I whisper:
"I love you, honey. And you, my little rascal. I'll always love you… to the end of time. Even if it takes millions of tries, I'll get our happy ending. Even if I have to destroy the world to do it. So rest easy. I'll be back. I'll always come back."
And then, there's nothing.