Life was never something I took seriously, something to be truly enjoyed. It was always left to chance, guided by circumstances and inertia. Although I never valued it, and I didn't even have a problem with the idea of dying, I never imagined that my death would come in such a horrible way.
These were my last thoughts before succumbing to my injuries and finally passing away.
When I returned from an exhausting journey, all that went through my mind was the comfort of my chair and the pleasure of playing my favorite game — a car racing simulator, my hobby and stress relief valve for the last few months.
However, ironically and cruelly, this daily joy was taken away from me by a car accident. I was crushed between two trucks and impaled by parts of the chassis that bent like spears.
In life, we all think, at least once, about what our last breath will be like or what happens after death. To these questions, no one has a right answer; After all, no one knows anyone who has been there and back to tell what is on the other side. All that is left is to speculate.
Different worldviews try to explain this mystery, or at least comfort those who remain. Atheists would say that after death there is nothing, that existence ceases and that everything you were dissolves in the river of time. As cruel as it is to think that life simply fades away, this view seems preferable to the fate of eternal torment in a world of sulfur and flames.
Other religions, on the other hand, believe in a higher plane, a place of eternal peace where a deity would fulfill all your wishes, or, as in some beliefs, in the possibility of reincarnation.
In my case, however, it seemed that I had been condemned to wander in the valley of shadows, between life and death.
A plane that I assumed was a dimension for the dead, where suffering echoed in every moment.
For what felt like years, though it was impossible to measure time, I existed in a dark, desolate expanse. I had no sight, hearing, or sense of touch. Only a faint awareness of light and shadow brushing against what I assumed was my body remained.
I felt less human and more like a floating orb, helplessly carried along an unseen current.
With no senses to anchor me, my thoughts became my sole companion, and reflection soon became a recurring habit.
I had a difficulty time accepting my death, and often found myself imagining scenarios in which, I escaped this nightmare and woke up well, back in my bed.
But, after a while, these thoughts became untenable.
I abandoned these hopes and accepted my new reality. Acceptance brought about a change in me, and I began to revisit the past, to analyze my life and my choices.
I mused about what I would do if life were given back to me, and about how my existence had been marked by constant dissatisfaction. I was bitter when I realized that, in life, I had not achieved complete satisfaction in anything.
Unable to change my situation, sadness and depression began to haunt me, like a storm approaching without me being able to avoid it.
And then the suffering became deeper.
But little by little, I was transforming myself into someone stoic, someone who had accepted that there were things that could not be changed
As time went by, I discovered that my imagination was the only possible refuge.
I thought about books, films, games and series that had marked me in the past, and, to my surprise, I was able to remember many details with astonishing precision, something that I attributed to my new "body".
However, I noticed that some specific details about my identity and those close to me, such as my family, began to fade.
In a sense, this made my adaptation to this new reality more bearable, easier to accept.
Suddenly, the light that had previously seemed to guide my path went out, and I felt the boundaries of my surroundings narrow, as if I were trapped in something.
For the first time in years, I heard sounds again. They were unintelligible, but they were clearly voices.
After so much time in isolation, hearing something so close to a human voice was almost magical.
Instinctively, I knew it was only a matter of time before I could regain my other senses. And shortly after, I began to feel my consciousness fading away again.
This happened repeatedly, at indeterminate intervals of time; I would wake up, maintain my consciousness for a few seconds, and then sink into oblivion.
After several times like this, I finally managed to maintain my consciousness for a longer period, and a curious hypothesis arose in my mind: Have I been reincarnated? The idea was so intriguing that I couldn't help but explore it, and the more I thought about it, the more sense it made.
Feeding these reflections, I began to look for scenarios and explanations for everything, concluding that that my past experience of sensory deprivation must have been the process of my soul's transmigration.
And then the sensation became overwhelming. I awoke from the void, feeling my body being pushed by an overwhelming force, compressed, as if I were passing through a narrow, hot tunnel.
The pressure increased in waves, crushing me, suffocating me, until a cold, abrasive touch brushed my skin for the first time. The shock made my consciousness burn with a mixture of pain and astonishment.
The passage seemed eternal. Each second brought new layers of discomfort, and I felt exposed, pushed by a will that was not my own.
Suddenly, something gave way, and I was thrown into an unknown world, flooded by a blinding light that blinded my still sensitive eyes.
I tried to react, but my body was heavy, clumsy, as if I still didn't know how to operate it. My lungs, until then dormant, took their first breaths, with an almost instinctive desperation.
The air penetrated me like a cold, cutting knife, causing me to let out a hoarse, helpless scream.
All around me, I heard voices, murmured and muffled, as if they were coming from a distant world, while warm hands held me, wrapping me in a soft, cozy fabric.
The softness contrasted with the brutality of what I had just experienced. A feeling of warmth enveloped me again, but this time it was different: it came from outside, enveloping me protectively.
My eyes, still unable to see clearly, registered only shadows and diffuse points of light. I left the absolute void and returned to the world of the living.
Existing in this new space brought a strange familiarity, a relief. Surrounded by sounds, touches and new sensations, I felt my tired body relax for the first time.
I didn't know where I was, or who those beings around me were, but for the first time in years, or maybe for the first time, I felt calm.