(This story is a work of fiction brought to you by Erix Summerdown.)
Previous Page: Remember
"...what did you see after that? ...After you died."
https://nintenpedia.com/forum/blog/new-life-remember.2573/
I shudder hard, my breathing has become ragged gasping. The memory is so awful, so ugly; but it's so true
somehow that it's the only answer. I can't say anything. It feels like my throat is closing up.
I died... One moment I was driving my way to a job I can't even remember, in the next, two cars were fused
together, crumpled and destroyed like two bloody jigsaw pieces forced to fit. I slammed into the
wheel, and felt metal pierce my skin, travel through my body from one side to the other; I saw my
entire life played out in front of me, a storm of four decades in one lightning strike of a second.
I exhaled my last breath. I remember accepting the awful ending that crashed into me.
But here I am, apparently alive and speaking - my voice came back, but the words are still scattered.
The letters are all there, I'm just too disorienteted to put them together. "I-ah... ...I'm dead? This is...-"
"No." the doctor interrupts. He was so surprised it seems, he looked straight up from his clipboard to
reassure me. "You are definitely alive. We brought you back, near immediately after..." He left
that sentence unfinished.
I try to speak again. It's just a dumbfounded noise, a mess of letters spoken too fast for me to
understand. Where am I? I think I asked, or What am I? The two felt the same somehow.
The shock of reliving dying sends me in a panic. I stop to breathe, my dizzied, unfinished, gibberish
questions hung in the air.
"I'm sorry to confront you with such a... a grusome truth, ..." He says, apologetic but matter-of-fact,
like my death was someone else's: detatched. Third-person. Like death was only as bad as a house lost
to a fire: a repairable tragedy, where after some time I could put my world back together and pick up
where I left off.
"I must ask, so please answer as best you can, what you can remember after your mortal event."
I couldn't understand half of what he asked, I was just too foggy. His point was he wanted me to think
after I died - if that is possible. He seems certain I could've witnessed it.
I don't ask why - can't imagine it'd be any easier to grasp than his last sentence. So I struggle at
the thought, I strain, I give myself a headache trying to think after the impact. But it is only
darkness from there. My mind won't form an image.
"Doctor... I can't remember anything," I gasp. I give up on the memory, and slump back onto the bed
in defeat. The doctor slowly nods, he speaks but his words are too difficult, they just melt away -
I think it was something to do with memories being less likely to retrieve as more time passes,
especially after immense trauma. He also said something about hypnosis not being approptiate in my
case, But not why.
Did I really see something? Since I can't remember, I speculate: it could've been the one place
we all probably go when we die - "the afterlife" some people call it, that supposed place that's
either paradise or purgatory, depending on how your life turned out. Heaven or hell, which one did
I end up in? Nothing comes to mind of anything that'd take me either direction. What happens if I
lived my life in a tie? Was I stuck? Did I come back as some sort of tie-braking ultimatum, to figure
out where to go or... not die?
I decide to rest again, this line of thought was exhausting to me. I forget about the doctor for now,
about my dilemma, about the world around me. As much as I want to uncover my past now, it can wait
until my energy is back, until the rest of my memory puts itself back together.
Previous Page: Remember
"...what did you see after that? ...After you died."
https://nintenpedia.com/forum/blog/new-life-remember.2573/
I shudder hard, my breathing has become ragged gasping. The memory is so awful, so ugly; but it's so true
somehow that it's the only answer. I can't say anything. It feels like my throat is closing up.
I died... One moment I was driving my way to a job I can't even remember, in the next, two cars were fused
together, crumpled and destroyed like two bloody jigsaw pieces forced to fit. I slammed into the
wheel, and felt metal pierce my skin, travel through my body from one side to the other; I saw my
entire life played out in front of me, a storm of four decades in one lightning strike of a second.
I exhaled my last breath. I remember accepting the awful ending that crashed into me.
But here I am, apparently alive and speaking - my voice came back, but the words are still scattered.
The letters are all there, I'm just too disorienteted to put them together. "I-ah... ...I'm dead? This is...-"
"No." the doctor interrupts. He was so surprised it seems, he looked straight up from his clipboard to
reassure me. "You are definitely alive. We brought you back, near immediately after..." He left
that sentence unfinished.
I try to speak again. It's just a dumbfounded noise, a mess of letters spoken too fast for me to
understand. Where am I? I think I asked, or What am I? The two felt the same somehow.
The shock of reliving dying sends me in a panic. I stop to breathe, my dizzied, unfinished, gibberish
questions hung in the air.
"I'm sorry to confront you with such a... a grusome truth, ..." He says, apologetic but matter-of-fact,
like my death was someone else's: detatched. Third-person. Like death was only as bad as a house lost
to a fire: a repairable tragedy, where after some time I could put my world back together and pick up
where I left off.
"I must ask, so please answer as best you can, what you can remember after your mortal event."
I couldn't understand half of what he asked, I was just too foggy. His point was he wanted me to think
after I died - if that is possible. He seems certain I could've witnessed it.
I don't ask why - can't imagine it'd be any easier to grasp than his last sentence. So I struggle at
the thought, I strain, I give myself a headache trying to think after the impact. But it is only
darkness from there. My mind won't form an image.
"Doctor... I can't remember anything," I gasp. I give up on the memory, and slump back onto the bed
in defeat. The doctor slowly nods, he speaks but his words are too difficult, they just melt away -
I think it was something to do with memories being less likely to retrieve as more time passes,
especially after immense trauma. He also said something about hypnosis not being approptiate in my
case, But not why.
Did I really see something? Since I can't remember, I speculate: it could've been the one place
we all probably go when we die - "the afterlife" some people call it, that supposed place that's
either paradise or purgatory, depending on how your life turned out. Heaven or hell, which one did
I end up in? Nothing comes to mind of anything that'd take me either direction. What happens if I
lived my life in a tie? Was I stuck? Did I come back as some sort of tie-braking ultimatum, to figure
out where to go or... not die?
I decide to rest again, this line of thought was exhausting to me. I forget about the doctor for now,
about my dilemma, about the world around me. As much as I want to uncover my past now, it can wait
until my energy is back, until the rest of my memory puts itself back together.