16 'Purgatory'

Once my consciousness once again came to be, the place I was currently in only left me suffering from my own thought.

At first, I was unable to feel anything as I was still fully focused on everything that had happened, desperately thinking of people to pin the blame on. Eventually, though, I started to feel a weird sensation all around me.

It was only then that my senses came back to me. Although my 'eyes' were closed, I could still 'see' my 'skin' and 'feel' what I thought was my skin was being burned while at the same time constantly resetting back to normal, causing me to be in a constant cycle of switching between unbelievable pain and complete normality.

Although I was in immeasurable pain, I decided to try to open my 'eyes', to my surprise, however, when I opened my 'eyes' I could still not see anything apart from my 'skin,' and in fact, felt even more pain than before, it was like my 'eyes' were being overwhelmed, unable to process that which I was seeing, while also causing extreme pain.

I felt helpless and unable to do anything to stop the pain; at least, that was before I began to think back on my life.

However, not by my own command. It was like my mind had suddenly started making me remember the past on its own before I could try to stop it, though, the pain disappeared.

At first, I thought that whatever was happening to me had stopped, so I forced myself to stop thinking about my life.

When I did so, the pain suddenly returned, almost on instinct, I began to try and remember my life, from the little information I had, I realized that what was causing me the pain hadn't stopped; it was just that remembering the past seemed to alleviate the pain.

The small feeling of joy I felt in that moment didn't last for too long, though. After that, I continued to remember my life; I was only able to do so partially, however, as it's not like I remembered my entire life, only the important parts, sadly, very few of those were actually happy ones; it didn't take long for my memories to reach the point where my life started to go downhill, even before the war.

The worst part was that, unlike good memories, the bad ones are the ones one remembers the best, the ones that feel the most real when looked back upon. I don't know how many times I repeated the cycle, but I knew that if things continued the way they were, it would only be a matter of time before I lost my mind.

I couldn't go back to before, though, as that would only accelerate the process. I couldn't just think about random things either, as even as I thought of what to do, I could feel a much weaker pain than I felt before. So, in the end, I ended up opting to think about who was to blame for my misery.

I knew that it was only slightly less dangerous than remembering the past, but it was the only choice I truly had.

At first, I was focused on my father. Even in my last moments, I couldn't get him to face the consequences of his actions. As I continued to 'rant' in rage, my mind eventually moved onto the entire situation surrounding the cause of my death.

Although I truly didn't have all of the details, I knew that if I didn't start going off, chances were that the pain would return.

So, I decided to abandon all reason and just get consumed by my emotions and blame the US for everything even though I would have probably died anyway whether or not I was involved in the war.

It didn't take long for me to lose track of time completely, to immerse in my own thoughts. Even without thinking, I had begun a cycle of blaming all of my problems on the US and then begin to obsess over finding ways to do things better than they did.

And despite, after a long amount of time, coming up with some ideas that I convinced myself would work, deep down, I knew that what happened couldn't be changed, at least not unless that which came before was changed.

Although I could ignore the pain, I had begun to fall so deep into my rage that I was bordering on the brink of my sanity, just one step away from crossing the line.

As I 'ranted' my view of the world and the situation became more extreme, I changed the facts to create a fake narrative where everything was the US' fault. Before I could truly lose my mind, though, I heard a hoarse, scratchy voice next to my ear.

"That's an interesting way to look at things, but is that what you truly believe?"

I instantly froze, I had already come to terms with the fact that I had probably gone to hell, mainly because no matter what I did, I would always suffer in one way or another, so when I heard another voice that was not my own, my mind immediately connected the dots and 'realized' who I was talking to.

'S,s,s, Satan?!'

*Cough*, *cough*, "I think you are confused, this isn't hell, and I'm not Satan," said a now clear and majestic voice.

'What, but that means… God?!'

"I suppose you could call me that"

'But if you're real, then why did the world end, why did it happen, why didn't you stop it!' I thought on instinct, only able to realize what I had done when it was too late. I immediately thought that 'God' would erase me from existence, but unlike what I thought, 'God' spared me.

"Is that truly what you wish to know?"

'...N,n-yes... I... I need to know...'

"Very well, I suppose it wouldn't cost me much to tell you anyways, here, let me take us somewhere better, though I do have to warn you though, you might not like what you are about to hear."