4 Transitioning

There are many theories on what comes after you die. Most of what I have heard on the subject has come from religions. And let me tell you from experience, they are all full of shit. Well, except for one, one got it half-right.

I wish I could tell you my death mattered, that I died doing something heroic or important. But, the manner of my death was far more mundane.

Everyone has heard stories of people slipping and cracking their heads open in the shower. Sometimes, it's a parent warning their child to be careful. Other times it is an ad on tv trying to get you to buy those weird sticky pads that are somehow supposed to prevent you from slipping and hurting yourself.

If you're like me, you promptly changed the channel, annoyed that your show was interrupted for something so stupid, or perhaps you ignored your parent's warning, never once believing that something so ridiculous could happen to you.

My life didn't flash before my eyes like in all the stories when it happened to me. All I could worry about was that whoever found my bloated corpse would undoubtedly use my death as a cautionary tale to others about being careful not to slip in the shower.

As I started losing consciousness, I mused that perhaps my mundane death was a good fit for my mundane life.

The best way to describe my life was ordinary, perfectly ordinary. My mother died giving birth to me, and if things had gone as they did in the stories, my father would have resented me. He would have turned to alcohol and taken his anger out on me.

Instead, he loved me and worked hard to provide for our small family. Then, when I was four, he remarried. Normally in stories, this would be where the evil step-mom would make my life hell. But, she was a kind soul and did everything she could to support me.

Growing up, my parents encouraged me to explore different paths. The one thing I found I was good at was coding. Something about it just clicked with me. I found I preferred the glow of my computer to the outside world. I could even find a good-paying job after graduating, one that let me work from my apartment.

As I took my final breath, the feeling I felt most was regret. Regret that I didn't do more with my life. I always meant to travel the world, see things, meet people, have adventures. But, instead, I merely watched and read about other people doing those things.

I'm not sure how long it took me to figure out I was dead. I don't know what I had been expecting. Most human religions boil down to if you're good in life, you're rewarded, and if you're bad, there will be punishment. Sure there is some variation depending on the religion, but that basically covers it.

What a crock of shit.

Let me tell you what I've come to learn firsthand. After death, there's no paradise or punishment. It's nothingness. Not to be confused with darkness. Darkness implies there is something. What I'm talking about is pure nothingness.

There is nothing to do, see, hear, smell, taste, touch. Your consciousness simply exists. There is nothing but you and your memories. And soon, even those begin to leave you.

I'm not sure when I started forgetting things, it could have been one year after my death or a thousand. In the beginning, it was minor stuff, stuff you never thought to worry about losing, like the color of your first car. But then, you forget what a friend looked like or the name of your dog, and the real panic sets in. If what makes a person are his memories. What happens when they are all gone? Are you still you, or are you someone else?

What's even more annoying is memories you couldn't care less about seemed to last longer. You would think your precious memories would stay, but no, those go first. I try not to think about it, but I can't even remember my last name. I fear my first name will be the next to go.

As time went on, or so I assume. More and more of me slipped away. I still remember odd details, the name of my neighbor means cat, how most people eat bananas the wrong way. The annoying baby's back ribs jingle.

When I realized that I couldn't remember my name, I had a bit of a mental breakdown. But, eventually, a calm resolution came over me. This wasn't how my story would end.

I turned inward, determined not to lose another piece of me. Eventually, I felt a small piece of me break off. Somehow, I reached out and firmly latched onto the piece like a dog locking its jaws on a rope. A fierce struggle issued as the piece of me was pulled in another direction.

I gave a mental roar of victory when I was able to pull that piece back into my core. Once I knew I could hold myself together, I doubled my efforts. Each time a piece broke off and tried to float away, I forced it back into myself.

More time passed, and I became an expert at holding onto myself. Then, finally, the slow deterioration of my mind stopped. But then something changed. For the first time, I felt another presence. And it seemed annoyed at what I was doing. As if I were in the wrong for preserving myself.

Without words, it communicated that I needed to let go of my memories if I wanted to move on. My response was to blow a mental raspberry. Was it childish? Perhaps. But, it had been a long time since I had interacted with something other than my memories, and now that I found I could hang onto them, I wasn't letting go, not for anything.

Eventually, the presence left, and I was alone in the nothingness again. Four times it returned, each time trying to convince me to let go. Like a parent trying to convince their unruly child to eat their vegetables.

And like a stubborn child, I didn't listen.

After the fifth attempt, it never returned. At first, I was beyond pleased with myself. I had won. But, as more time passed in the nothingness, I worried that perhaps I had made a mistake.

Then, I felt a slight nudge out of nowhere, and the nothingness was replaced by darkness. I would have panicked more had it not been for the liquid warmth. After so long of not feeling anything, it was peaceful. Somehow I knew I wasn't in danger of losing any more memories, and I drifted off.

In my opinion, I accepted my new existence rather well. Senses, I had almost forgotten to return. I started hearing odd noises and sounds. There was a beautiful, muffled voice that seemed to sing to me. I couldn't understand a word, but I found it relaxing. Eventually, my situation dawned on me. I had been reborn and was in my mother's womb. Once I figured it out, I felt a little bad for my new mother. Ever since I discovered I had limbs, I had been kicking up a storm lately.

I did find some oddities as I rested in the warm darkness. Sometimes, I swear I could feel something, an energy moving and passing through me. But, whatever it was, it was elusive as a ghost.

Then one day, my new peaceful existence was attacked. A snake-like energy steam latched onto me and tried to drain my elusive ghost-like energy. I panicked when I felt something leaving me. It was like I was back in the nothingness and was watching a piece fade away. Furious that this steam of energy had the gall to take something of mine, I began to struggle and began a mental tug of war. Thankfully, I had experience in this kind of thing and held on to my energy.

Eventually, I could feel myself beginning to falter. It felt like I had been fighting forever. Then, just when I thought I wouldn't be able to hold on any longer, the stream of energy trying to drain me disappeared. The tiny bit of energy that had been taken returned and slammed into me like a freight train.

It felt like getting hit by a train. Suddenly, I could feel this strange energy everywhere. But, I couldn't make sense of what was happening. The energy was like a bright neon light that bypassed the darkness and lit up the inside of my brain. At first, I was fascinated, everything had been dark for so long, and this change was interesting. But, as time went on, I realized a problem. I couldn't seem to turn it off.

My mind was constantly bombarded with information. Trying to rest and drift off became impossible. It was like trying to fall asleep while someone was shaking your body, trying to keep you awake.

It got so bad I almost wished to return to nothingness. Almost.

Then one day, there was a change. But, it wasn't what I would call a good change.

A long pointy object invaded my home and stabbed me. If that wasn't bad enough, it left something behind before it left.

It felt like I had been injected with liquid fire, and a sensation I had long forgotten about returned with a vengeance. Pain.

Every nerve I had was lit on fire as the mysterious substance circulated through my body. Eventually, I came to the conclusion that the substance's purpose seemed to be total destruction.

I soon realized that the substance would kill me if I did nothing. So, I did the only thing I could think of. I reached out with my mind and pulled the fire inward, seeking to make it a part of me.

I almost let go as the pain increased. But, instead, the substance resisted, wanting to consume me completely. The more I pulled, the more it tried to pull away.

As bad as the pain was, I refused to let go. I had come too far, lost too much of what I was. I would be damned if I was going to lose one more thing.

Eventually, the pain became easier to ignore. I felt the substance shift, becoming more malleable. It was losing the battle. It took some time, but I finally got complete control over it.

Once I had control, the first thing I tried was to get rid of it. After a few fruitless attempts, I knew that it was impossible. The substance had already partially merged with me.

Since it was already part of me, I changed tactics. I decided to do the next best thing, to merge with it completely. But this time, I would be the one in control. Slowly, I let the substance circulate through my body, seeking to assimilate it rather than letting it run rampant.

When it was done, I was utterly spent. I was so exhausted, not even the energy bombarding my mind could keep me conscious, and I drifted off in the darkness.

The next time I came to, I discovered that the home I had come to enjoy was evicting me quite insistently. I wasn't sure if it was because I had become more stubborn after everything that had happened to me. But, I couldn't help but be a little resentful, so I dug in and refused to budge. I would leave when I was good and ready.

Lately, I think maybe I hadn't gotten a little cocky after getting my way. First, I held onto pieces of my former life. Next, I was able to withstand my energy being drained, and while there were annoying consequences. I still chalked that up to a victory. Then, finally, there was the weird substance that sought to devour who I was and turn me into something else. But, rather than being devoured, I consumed and absorbed the substance on my own. Yes, it marked me in a way I didn't understand. All I knew was that I had won.

A small part of me was beginning to think there wasn't anything I couldn't do, so I was completely taken off guard when a foreign sliver of energy entered my rapidly collapsing home. I couldn't be sure, but I got the distinct impression that it was frustrated and annoyed by my resistance. Then, without warning, it smacked into my backside and sent a spark of energy into me.

Stunned, my grip on my home slipped, and I was unceremoniously forced into a tunnel that was two sizes too small for me. The rest of my journey felt like what I imagined being eaten by a snake would feel like. I was pressed in on all sides as I was slowly forced through the tunnel.

I'll spare you the rest of the icky details. But, needless to say, it was traumatizing.

Once I had made it to the light at the end of the tunnel, I was overwhelmed. I could see light and colors for the first time since my previous life. But, everything was blurry. Firm hands gripped me, wiping me down. I'm not sure if it's because I wasn't used to feeling things, but it felt like I was being cleaned with sandpaper.

As annoying as the two previous things were, the worst by far was the energy. The amount I sensed increased by a hundredfold. It felt like having your eyelids held open and a bright flashlight shining in your eyes.

With all my senses completely overloaded, I did the most natural thing in the world. I screamed.