The unseen

Death is inevitable. Expected. Concrete. The afterlife however is entirely unknown; A culturally bound, socially constructed proposal of what may be, relative to the individual it is impossible to define singularly. What you must remember is that death is not always a closed curtain, sometimes it’s the beginning of an everlasting encore – death, much like life, is what we make it.

This is my entry to the write about an image competition

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1. Limbo

He knew neither who he was, nor where he’d come from; his single memory was the pain, so momentarily excruciating it already haunted him. Everyone experienced it, torturous, comparable to no other means of suffering. Best described, it was as though his mind had self imploded, firing every synapse and stimulating every neurotransmitter until his cranium pulsated with the agonizing burn of energy as his soul was ripped from mortality - every cosmic particle fighting not to rupture under the intense pressure, struggling to stay whole. In essence this was what had occurred, although entering the afterlife is more complex than simply undergoing separation. The weaker souls disperse at this early stage, greeting death with open arms until there is nothing.

Having separated  successfully he now became aware of the light, blinding in its purity. Euphoria consumed him as he registered the weightlessness; tied to no form, like air he floated effortlessly, visible only in the light. This didn't last. He felt the pull but saw nothing - many people don’t. Wordlessly he compared the feeling to that a puppet may experience from the tension on its strings. He hung, powerless to the forces on the other end of his tether. The pull intensifying until the three differing directions were clear. A mess of panic and confusion paralysed him. Incapable to respond to the forces he searched for meaning but without memories to draw upon this was fruitless.  Frozen by fear he searched on until something deep within his soul sparked, presented with its stimulus the knowledge surfaced, and he knew – this was his decision. No longer fearful the challenge was accepted as he continued on his path towards the afterlife.

Rebirth beckoned him first, with the prospect of a new life; the chance to start over. One can only live so many times however before the soul begins to fracture and dispersal begins.

The phantasm called next with possibilities of supernatural proportion; haunting those from his past life, travelling through the world without physical obstacles and re-living his fondest memories. Not knowing who he was or what his life had been, this option apeared unpredictable. Equally, being a spectre was not the same as living, they merely observed; looking through a one sided mirror, never acknowledged.

 Finally heaven enticed him in a soothing whisper with promises of paradise. But admission to heaven was not like that of rebirth or phantasm, it was conditional.Souls had to to earn inhabitance and paradise came at a price - purgatory.

The danger of becoming lost in limbo increased as he delayed the decision. After lengthly contemplation he closed his eyes, mind made. The pull ceased but the weightlessness did not return. He felt himself drifting, like a leaf caught helplessly in the breeze, as afterlife commenced.

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