Life After Limbo: Chapter 2.

Chapter 2.

It’s been two weeks since I arrived in limbo and I’ve explored everywhere I can possibly imagine. I walked for six hours in one direction and the landscape didn’t change even once. It’s just an endless stretch of field. Occasionally I ran across more voices and noises, but most of the time I’ve been alone. A few times, I thought that I’d seen someone else in the corner of my vision, but whenever I turned around there was nothing to see. So here I’ve been for two weeks wandering around like a lost soul, literally.

Time passes incredibly slow, and the days stretch into what feels like weeks. I’m getting tired of wandering. Tired of walking. Tired of not ‘moving on’. After two weeks here I can’t wait to actually die and see what lies beyond, but I’m starting to doubt that there is a ‘beyond’ and that this empty landscape is not all there is.

Again, I think I see someone moving behind me. This time I’m quicker and I finally see him before he sprints of into the distance, moving quicker than a cheetah. But nothing matters anymore, not the time, not the endlessness of limbo, nothing. I have seen his face and I know who has been stalking me all these weeks. He was the reason that I died. I went to his aid back in the land of living. I tried to save his life and instead it cost me mine. And now here he is tormenting me in death. I was so sure he had survived, so sure I had done my final good deed, but it turns out that is something else I managed to fail at in my miserable excuse for a life. Instead, he has decided to torment me for letting him die, for not being better, for not being quicker or smarter or braver. Super. I was a tormented soul in life and now I’m literally a tormented soul in death.

Keep reading xox.

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Life After Limbo: Chapter 1.

Chapter 1.

Life is hard. Death is what’s easy. Once you accept that and just stop fighting, you’ll know the true meaning of peace. For in life, peace is unachievable and impossible because after all, we are humans and peace isn’t in our nature. But death, death is a different matter altogether, peace is the definition of death. Death is the saviour of life and death is where life truly begins.

I could feel myself slipping away and the darkness creeping in. There wasn’t anything else I could do, I couldn’t fight any harder. Breathing was becoming more difficult and the pain was too intense. I wanted to keep going but I was never a fighter, I was a bookworm, a nerd, a loser. That is what I would always be, it was all I knew how to do.

Dying on my own though, is definitely not the way I planned to go. And I definitely didn’t plan to go at eighteen. If I had stayed at home that day, if I had not taken that shortcut through the alley, if I had not tried to help the man bleeding out on the floor, then I would be tucked up in a nice warm bed rather than feeling my heart slowing down and watching my blood blanket the floor in a sea of crimson. But I did do all those things and I can still feel the blade scraping against my ribs every time I try to breathe.

I know that there is no help coming for me and that it’s just a matter of time until I breathe my final breath. For now the only thing I can do is try to ignore the pain as I count the last beats of my heart. 1..2..3..4..5..6..7…

…8.9.10.11.12.13 my heart beat is getting faster but I thought I was dying. How could I have survived? I’d read enough medical books to know that my injury was fatal. I knew I couldn’t have survived and there was no sign of rescue. I had to be dead, that was the only possible conclusion. But yet in all my years of reading I have never come across anything concerning a heartbeat in a dead body.

Opening my eyes, I see a field full of luscious grass and dotted with vibrant red and yellow flowers and I’m struck with a feeling of recognition. I’m back home! It isn’t possible but it’s the field behind my house. Things are different, wrong. The trees are bare even though the flowers are in full bloom. The hill is in the wrong place, backwards like in a memory.

Everything around me looks so real, but it doesn’t feel the same. The grass underneath my toes is too soft for real grass, it’s more like sponge. The air burns my lungs as I breathe like my body is simply rejecting the air. The sun is just rising but in the West and not the East. It’s almost as if I’ve stepped through a mirror, everything is the same but also everything is wrong.

Before I have finished taking in all my surroundings, my ears prick with the sound of rustling grass. Turning around, there is nothing in site but yet I can see the grass moving, almost as if someone is walking through it and straight towards me. I ready myself for a fight, I can’t run, I have no idea where I am or even if I can escape anywhere. After all I can’t see anybody in front of me, I’m just assuming that there is. My brain is telling me there’s nothing there, but yet my stomach is doing flips and twists knowing that there is.

Another noise comes from my left. Spinning around, again there is nothing but indented grass. The noise repeats itself, sounding almost like a dog’s bark. If it was a dog, it would explain the indented grass but not the invisibility that everything seems to have around here. Realising I’m not in any immediate danger, I listen. The more I listen, the more I hear. Children giggling, dogs parking, footsteps. As if I really was back in the field behind my house; but the sounds still aren’t right, as if I am listening to them from underwater or down a tunnel.

My brain starts working and I think I can finally figure out where I am. Limbo right? The in-between of life and death. I can still hear everything that is happening in life but yet I am not a part of it because I am no longer alive. That seems to be the most logical explanation my brain can produce, but it immediately dashed the hope that was starting to build in my chest. So I am dead. There’s no denying it.

Okay, so limbo. Time to explore.

Keep reading xox.

Preview Of My First Short Story.

Life is hard. Death is what’s easy. Once you accept that and just stop fighting, you’ll know the true meaning of peace. For in life, peace is unachievable and impossible because after all we are humans and peace isn’t in our nature. But death, death is a different matter altogether, peace is the definition of death. Death is the saviour of life and death is where life truly begins.

Keep reading xox.

Expanding!!

I’m thinking of expanding out from just reviewing books and writing my own short story.

I’m probably going to upload it chapter by chapter on here, and I’m really nervous about this, as this is the first time I have basically written anything, so please be nice.

Thanks.

Keep reading xox.