#Chapter47
I feel dazed. My memory is a mess, and I do not have the patience to sort through it. There is a certain urgency yelling at me to get up, shouting nonsense, but I can hardly hear what it is saying. My surroundings are soft to the touch, my fingers stroking the fabric beneath me before scrunching into a fist. My back aches, more than the rest of my body at least. I feel bruised, like a fruit dropped to the floor one to many times.
The smell of heaven is terribly familiar. Have I died before? I want to open my eyes and take in the city of white, but I struggle to do so. Suddenly, I find myself drifting off again, slipping into a warm darkness.
Time is inexistent in heaven. The urge to wake comes to me again, and I do not know how long it has been. An hour? A day? A month? A year? Everything blends together into one long night. But, I have this urge, so this time I try harder than before.