Sofia's mind reeled as the truth settled in. "It can't be." She could've done more. "I can't be dead." She would've done more. Her thoughts spiraled as reality crystallized. "Just when everything was getting better?… why?" Eighteen years weren't nearly enough.
She wanted to cry, but no tears came. There was no soothing release—only a festering, growing anger. She turned to the god wearing her face, her expression burning with resentment.
"You." Her voice was sharp, trembling with fury. "It was you."
She was suddenly in his face, her hands gripping the collar of his blouse. She didn't know what she could do to a god, but her anger needed an outlet. His apologetic eyes met hers, yet he said nothing. Not a word. Not even a blink. His silence only fanned the flames of her rage.
"This isn't fair! Take me back! It can't end like this!"
Still, nothing. Her grip slackened as something else caught her attention: his outfit. It was hers. The white blouse, tucked into blue jeans, and white sneakers—the clothes she wore on the day she died. Her breath hitched as her last few hours on earth replayed in her mind.
She remembered how she had tried so hard to look presentable, going for a business-casual look for the job interview she'd wanted so badly and had finally received. That morning she stood in front of her mirror, checking herself out, admiring how cute she looked. She had even done a few silly poses, feeling a spark of confidence in her little apartment. She was all alone there, no one to see her, and no one to criticize her embarrassing poses.
She had gone to that interview nervous but determined, gripping her purse tightly as she entered the office building. Someone—she didn't know if they worked there or not—had complimented her blouse as she passed. Those small, nice, words had given her the boost she needed to power through. The interview had gone well—better than she could've hoped. The interviewer had practically guaranteed her the job.
She remembered celebrating with a coffee she had grabbed on her way out of the office. That same person who complimented her earlier, offered her a cup. Putting way too much sugar in as usual, she savored the sweet warmth as she stood on the sidewalk, waiting for the light to change. The morning had been perfect: warm sunlight, a cool breeze, and a sense of triumph swelling in her chest from her small victory that day. She considered splurging on dinner that evening and going out, even if she would be eating alone in a fancy restaurant. It'd be a treat just for her. She felt hopeful. For once, she felt like her life was finally, hers to shape.
And then…
She remembered the crunch. The sickening crack of her skull under the weight of the truck. The world going black.
Her hands fell away from the collar of the blouse, her body trembling. He didn't move. He didn't speak. He just watched her, his expression unreadable.
Defeated, Sofia whispered, "Maybe this is for the best." Her voice was hollow. Would she go to heaven? Hell? 'Probably hell,' she thought bitterly. Life had always been cruel to her. Why would death be any different?
"Yes," she murmured to herself. "This is for the best." If she went back, she'd only mess things up. She'd isolate herself. Live an empty, lonely life until she eventually died again. What was the point?
Tears finally came, warm streaks trailing down her cheeks. "At least this saves me the trouble of going through all that."
The god's eyes remained fixed on her as she spoke again. "Do what you will." Heaven, hell, or oblivion—it didn't matter anymore. She had never had control over anything in her cursed existence.
Silence stretched between them. Then, the god sighed.
"I sort of can't send you to whatever afterlife you're supposed to go to."
Sofia blinked, suddenly snapped out of her grief by the bullshit she was hearing. "The hell?" Irritation threatened to bubble up again.
"I kind of… snatched you out of the system," he admitted sheepishly. "Before your soul ascended. I pulled you into this pocket dimension."
"What the hell, man!" she snapped. Not only was she dead, but this wasn't even the proper place she was supposed to be.
"Look, I felt bad that I accidentally caused your death, so I have an offer for you."
Sofia crossed her arms, glaring at him. "Do I have a choice?"
The god avoided her gaze, scratching his cheek. "Well, uh… technically, yes, but it'd be very… inconvenient for me if you said no."
She groaned. "Fine. What's your offer?"
His face lit up. Seeing her own expression mirrored back so joyfully felt strange, but she shoved the feeling aside.
"Transmigration," he declared.
She frowned. "That's a real thing?"
"Yep! Usually, humans are reincarnated as babies with no memories of their past lives. But I can transfer your soul, as it is, into a new vessel. Memories and all. You'd get to keep living."
It was tempting. Her life had been cut short, and she wanted more, there must've been more to life than struggle and survival. But there were risks. A new body, new circumstances… What if she found herself in deeper shit than before? She needed time to think.
"Sofia," the god interrupted. His voice was urgent.
"What?" she snapped, still deep in thought.
"We're kind of on a time crunch."
Her eyes widened. "What do you mean, time crunch?"
"I've already found a suitable vessel for you. The original soul is… evicted. But the body won't last much longer without a soul tethered to it. So, you need to decide. Now."
She stared at him in disbelief. "What is wrong with you?"
"Nothing!" he huffed, looking mildly offended. "But seriously, you've gotta choose."
'Typical,' she thought bitterly. Forced to make a life-altering decision with no time to prepare. What could go wrong?
"Where will you send me?" she asked, her voice laced with suspicion.
"Is that a yes?" His blue eyes sparkled with anticipation.
Sofia sighed. She looked at the god wearing her face and shook her head. "I guess."