Sea of Dreams Re: Reason

Death is humanity’s greatest unknown.

Nobody knows how they're going to die; we just know that we are. Some people accept that fact for what it is and try to make the most of life despite it, others ignore it completely and go about their day, while some just deny it altogether. No matter what though, death comes for everyone. One day your ticket will be punched and you'll be sent away on the next great adventure or into the endless nothing that all of us came from. Death is humanity's greatest unknown. And its greatest fear.

So why then, did some of us yearn for it like hungry infants yearning for a bottle just out of reach? Was there some part of our souls that were fundamentally flawed or broken and if so, could it be fixed? With time and love and care, could the broken pieces of someone be put back together until they were just as normal as the rest of the world?

I don't know the answer to any of that and I doubt I ever will. It doesn’t matter though; I stopped caring years ago.

I won’t say that my life was terrible, because it wasn't. I had parents who, while somewhat absent, were as loving as any other, a brother and sister who I loved and was loved by, and a somewhat stable job that I liked about as much as anyone could like a job where none of your coworkers lasted a week before finding something better. I was making ends meet and didn't go hungry most nights and even had a bit of extendible income at the end of the month once bills were paid. So what was there to be sad about?

My therapist sometimes said that there isn't a reason for the way that we feel, that we just do. I personally thought it was a cop out and a waste of two hundred dollars, but I wasn't a licensed psychiatrist so what did I know?

About as much as he did apparently because even though I should have been happy or at the very least content, even though my life was livable and I had people who loved me, I was struggling to find a reason to get out of bed in the morning. A reason to bear the constant grey haze that filled my mind, making it hard to feel or process anything but that ball of nothing sitting in my chest from day to night. A reason to be scared of the unknown.

Maybe that was why, as I slowly bled out on the floor of the alley with only the stars and my murderer to keep me company, my oncoming death didn’t bother me as much as it should have.

Slowly, painfully, I turned my head towards the man who was looming over me, stark horror written all over his face. He looked like he didn’t know what was happening, which was slightly strange since the smoking gun in his hand and the ringing in both our ears was clear enough evidence of what had happened. He had shot me in the chest.

And as we locked eyes, horrified hazel peering into dull grey, I knew why he had done what he did.

“H-hey Tyler…” I said, my voice a tiny, wet thing that hurt my ears just as much as it hurt my chest, “I didn’t… didn’t think I’d ever see you again… guess I’m n-not that lucky, huh?”

Tyler, my abusive ex-boyfriend, flinched at the sound of my voice, and it was there that he seemed to realize what he had done. He looked at the gun in his hand and dropped it like it had burned him. It fell on the ground with a dull clatter and luckily didn’t go off again. I had a feeling I wouldn’t have to worry about tinnitus where I was going, but I would rather have my last moments not be anymore unpleasant than they already were with Tyler here.

“Fuck! Nonononono!” He said, horror in his voice as he quickly got on his knees beside me, his hands hovering over the hole in my chest as if he was too scared to touch me in case he hurt me. First time for everything, I suppose. His voice was shaky, adrenaline beginning to course through his body as he realized what he had done. “Riley, I’m so fucking sorry! I-I didn’t mean to-!”

“Y-Yes you did. Don’t lie.” I interrupted him, making him freeze. I wheezed, the sound wet and genuinely horrific to hear, “You can never *wheeze* let things go, can you? Couldn’t let me go.”

Was it getting colder? My fingers twitched, landing in a pool of something hot and sticky. Ah, no, it wasn’t getting colder. I was bleeding out. The bullet must have hit an artery or something. How lovely.

Really I should have expected something like this to happen. When someone stalks you regardless of a restraining order, banging on your bedroom window at two in the morning, begging them to take you back, they normally have a screw or two loose. I guess I had made a mistake not calling the cops on him when I had the chance.

Tyler shook his head, tears filling his eyes, “N-no! I just wanted to scare you a little bit! I didn’t mean to… to…”

“To kill me?” I said since he couldn’t. He flinched at my words, a guilty look coming to his face and I couldn’t help but smile despite the painful chill that was slowly filling me up. Blood dribbled from my lips, dying them a sticky red as I stared up at my killer, “You never mean to do anything, do you? Never meant to h-hit me or cheat on me. You’re pathetic.”

“Y-you moved!” He protested pitifully, “I was only trying to fuck with you but you moved and it scares me and I thought you were gonna attack me and I-”

He stopped talking as a cough rippled through me making me groan in absolute agony at the feeling of my muscles clenching around my gunshot wound. After the pain faded a bit, I gave the man a glare, “You can’t take responsibility for anything can you? I’m dying and you shot me. End of s-story.”

Though I may have sounded angry about that fact, I honestly wasn’t too torn up about it. The dying part, I mean. The way that I was dying certainly left something to be desired though.

I sighed, or at least I would have if it weren't for the massive hole in my chest. Tyler looked conflicted, his eyes darting between my dying form and the mouth of the alley, and it didn't take a genius to know what he was thinking. It figured that he wouldn't want to stick around with his dying ex, he had always been a coward.

Still, I couldn't let him leave now. If I was going to die, there was something I still had to do and unfortunately, I would need his help to do it.

“Tyler…” I spoke softly, causing him to look back towards me, “Before you go, c-could you do something for me?”

It was fucked up for me to ask my abuser and murderer for a favor but the reality of what was about to happen was setting in now and before it did, there was something I needed to do, “Just one thing… th-then you can leave and let me die in peace.”

Tears rolled down his face as he nodded and I couldn’t tell if they were real or fake. I didn't really care, “Anything.” He said quietly.

I inhaled shallowly, suppressing the urge to cough again as I did so. I was pretty sure that would actually kill me, “Pull my phone out of my gasp pocket and p-put it in my hand.”

Though he looked slightly confused, Tyler did as I asked, reaching into my pocket and pulling out my phone. He actually went through the trouble of powering it on before he gave it to me so all I had to do was put in my password. How nice of him.

What was even nicer was the fact that he didn't hesitate to turn around and book it in the other direction, leaving the gun on the ground where it had fallen.

I stared after him as he ran out of the mouth of the alley, nearly stumbling at his place before disappearing into the empty streets beyond. If there was one silver lining to this whole situation, it was that he wouldn’t get away with what he had done here tonight. I had already reported him to the police enough for stalking me that he would be the prime suspect in my murder and he wasn’t smart enough to come back for the gun he used to kill me. He was done.

And so was I. But not just yet. I still had something I needed to do.

With some difficulty, I brought my phone in front of my face and unlocked it. The action was harder than it had any right to be thanks to the blood-loss making me weak, but I somehow managed to pull up my contacts and press call before my strength failed me. The phone slipped out of my fingers just as I managed to put it on speaker, and the device clattered to the ground mere inches from my face, no doubt cracking in the process.

That was fine. It wasn’t like I was going to have to replace it any time soon.

As it rang and I waited for the person on the other line to pick up, I brought my eyes back up to the stars above me. They seemed so much brighter than they ever had before, each and every one of them shining just as vibrant as Sirius on a normal night. I felt my lips quirk into a small smile at the sight, happy that I would at least have a good view to follow me into the afterlife.

And some company. I turned my attention back to the phone as it was picked up after only three rings. A bit slower than I had expected but still pretty fast which made sense. Despite being in a relatively prodigious college, Andrew had always been a night owl.

“Riley? I’m surprised you called. I know you hate talking on the phone.” There was the sound of typing in the background, “Sorry if I sound distracted. I’m kinda in the middle of writing a history report for Mr. White at the moment.” He didn’t sound too annoyed, probably actually relieved that he had gotten a small break in his studies.

I laughed lightly, wincing as the numbness in my chest bled into pain at the movement, “Hey Andrew. Still putting it off until the last minute, huh?”

“Jokes on you. I actually got this assignment yesterday.” He sniffed, “I’m on top of it for once.” I could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke next, “Anyway, why are you calling me? We haven’t talked in like… months.”

I winced at the reminder. “Just… wanted to hear your voice. D-do you remember that time we went to that amusement park when we were in our twenties? The one in Tennessee?” I asked quietly, staring up at the curtain of stars above as I thought back to a time when I was actually happy.

There was a moment of silence before my brother’s confused voice emerged from the phone once more, “Yeah? Dollywood right? I remember. You said you wanted to go cause you saw a Family Guy skit and dove for over twelve hours on six hours of sleep. I don’t think you even rode anything the first day we were there.” He chuckled quietly, before his voice became confused once more, “But wait, why are you asking me at four in the morning? Are you drunk again?” His voice turned slightly accusatory.

The numbness had long since crept to my legs as I slowly shook my head, “No… n-not drunk. Just reminiscing. It feels like it’s been so long since… yeah.” I gave a sigh that was slightly wet from the blood stuck in my throat, “I d-don’t think I’ll get the chance to do that with you again.”

There was a beat, before, “Where are you?”

I gave a small chuckle at the instant concern despite the hole in my chest. My brother always was a worrywort. I didn’t deserve him. I really didn’t.

I grimaced, more blood leaking from my lips and feeling a particularly warm drool as it slid down my chin, “In an alley near my house.” I managed to get out without sounding too hurt, “I saw Tyler again. He shot me.”

“HE FUCKING WHAT!?” The shout was tinny thanks to the fact that it was coming through my tiny speakers but it was still more than enough to make me wince as the sound rang in my ears. I must have made some sort of noise because his shout immediately cut off, “Shit, sorry. But why!? What the fuck happened!?”

“I’m not sure, really. It’s all fuzzy. He… He said it was an accident. That h-he just wanted to scare me but I don’t buy it.” I said quietly, “He got me in the chest and I’m wheeze pretty sure he got a lung. Talking makes me want to die.” More than usual anyway.

“I’m going to fucking kill that psycho fuck!” Andrew snarled, the angriest I had ever heard him in my life, “I should have the moment you told me he put his hands on you!”

“You d-don’t have to worry about that. He’s not gonna get away with this.” I wheezed, “He left the gun here. The police will g-get him.”

“And what about you!?”

I didn’t say anything and my silence was more than enough of an answer for him. There was the sound of movement from the phone and I could hear something in the background. He was no doubt rushing around his apartment, grabbing things as he prepared to come to my rescue despite living on the opposite side of the city, “Listen, do you still have that handkerchief you bring with you everywhere!?” He asked urgently as a door slammed in the background.

I nodded even though I knew he couldn’t see me. The handkerchief he was talking about was one that I’d had since I was in middle school and though it was ratty and somewhat worn, I never could bring myself to get rid of it, “‘Course I do. Never leave the house without it. It’s in my back pocket.”

“Can you put some pressure on the wound? If you can at least stop the bleeding a little bit, I might be able to get to you! O-or at least call an ambulance! You said you’re near your work, right?” He said frantically.

It took great effort, more than I had ever exerted on anything in my life, but after several seconds of trying, I finally managed to move the muscles in my hand, attempting to move it behind me to retrieve my handkerchief.

And yet, in the end all the effort did was twitch my fingers. It was such a miniscule movement that it was almost invisible, the small disturbance in the blood below me the only indication that anything had happened in the first place.

“I can’t.” I finally said, giving up, “I c-can barely move my lips at this point honestly.”

It was getting cold now, my skin prickling with the frigid temperature around me as the liquid keeping me warm drained out of me. I probably didn't have long.

Andrew made a noise that was remarkably akin to a wounded animal at my words, and I was filled with a great deal of regret that I had decided to call him in the first place. Still, I was selfish. I wanted to hear my big brother's voice one last time.

“Hey… listen, don’t tell Bianca about this alright? About t-this conversation. Y-you know it would kill her.” I gasped out wetly as black stars began to dance at the edge of my vision, “J-just say I died instantly or something. There’s no reason to make her sadder than she’ll already be.”

My big sister always was a bleeding heart. Where most siblings tolerated each other with a small amount of fondness, she was the light in both of our lives. She regarded both Andrew and I with an insane amount of love and care, acting like the ideal oldest sibling despite being the middle child.

She always worried about me, especially when I stopped keeping in contact with the rest of them thanks to my depression. Every month I could expect a call from her, asking me how I'd been and how my life had been or offering me advice in my darkest times.

I wish I had returned the favor more often. I wished that I had been a better sister to her. To both of them.

There was a moment of silence and a loud creak, like Andrew had sat down in a chair especially hard, “... And what about me? You asshole!” I could hear him sniffle, “How could you go and do this? What’s mom gonna say when I tell her that you died? What about dad!?”

My lips parted silently, a trail of warm liquid making its way from my eye as it slowly flowed down my cheek, “I’m sorry.” I croaked out, for lack of anything better to say, “I shouldn't have put this all on you. I-I just… I didn’t want to be alone when it happened. I’ll hang gasp up if you wan-”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Andrew’s voice was insistent, though I could tell he was holding back sobs, “You stay on the line for as long as you can! M-Make some noise or something! Someone will find you and be able to help you!”

I was far beyond help now. I could feel that in my bones but I didn’t tell my brother anything. I had a feeling that he knew. I wouldn’t have called him if I thought there was a chance I’d make it.

“...Hey Andrew?” I spoke slowly, feeling my words slur thanks to how numb my lips were. The black at the edge of my vision was gradually making its way in, and it was all I could do to keep my eyes open, much less talk. My head felt foggy and getting my thoughts in order was getting harder and harder.

That perpetual fuzz in my chest was growing, filling the place where my lung once was and even more past that. I could barely feel anything and wanted nothing more than to just close my eyes forever. But this was important, I hadn’t said it nearly enough and now that I was dying, I probably wouldn’t get a chance to.

“sniff Y-yeah?”

“I love you.”

“Riley?” His voice cracked but I could barely hear him by then. The fog filling my head was almost all consuming, “Riley hang on, I’m almost to your work! Come on stupid answer me! Riley!”

I couldn’t hear him anymore.

~~~

Darkness, oppressive and utterly blinding to all my senses, consumed me. Up and down didn’t exist as whatever I had become, pure consciousness perhaps, floated in this endless void.

I had no body. No eyes or ears, no lips or mouth or hands or feet, there was nothing holding whatever was left of me together. And yet despite that, I didn't float away into the nothingness. It was like there was something unseen, something unknown, holding me together.

Was this the afterlife? The thing that awaited everyone after death? Was this what I had been yearning for for nearly a decade?

“Not quite.” A voice rippled throughout the void, shaking my very soul with the two syllable utterance, and then suddenly, my feet were back underneath me. The void was still as endless and dark as it had been moments ago, but I myself felt more put together, more solid than before, and I looked down at myself to find that I had a body once again, my very skin shining like a beacon in the oppressive black.

I also felt different. Maybe it was because this wasn't really my body and the fucked up chemicals in my brain had no affect on me here, but I didn't feel nearly as numb as I normally did. I almost felt… normal. Almost.

Putting my hands down, I looked around, searching for the origin of the voice that had spoken to me, “Are you Death?” I asked, my voice echoing in the dark.

There was a chuckle but the owner of the voice still didn't appear, "No. I am not Death, merely an aspect of its will. No one being could hold domain over such an infallible aspect of existence. Not without succumbing to an existence even greater than our own."

There were things even more powerful than Death? If I had the energy to care and wasn't already dead, I was sure that that would cause an existential crisis, “But you are here to take me to the afterlife, right?”

“Unfortunately, I am not. It was not your time just yet, child, a mistake on my part.” The voice sounded apologetic, “I looked away from your life thread for but a single moment and the bullet that was meant for your shoulder instead pierced a much more critical place. I am sorry that you suffered a fate not destined for you, but I cannot carry you beyond the veil just yet.”

“What? But I'm dead!”

“Indeed you are, but unfortunately, because your life thread was severed prematurely, Life itself didn't completely relinquish its hold on you. Passing through now would have devastating ramifications for your very soul.”

Devastating ramifications didn't sound good. I looked around at the darkness unsurely, “So what, I'm just supposed to stay here forever? Because if so, you can go ahead and take me through. I'd rather be ripped from existence than stay in the physical manifestation of my emotional state through adulthood.”

“You will not stay here either. Few souls glow as brightly as yours, but in time the void snuffs out all.” The voice rumbled, “No, you still have life within you, and I refuse to let a gift such as that go to waste as you have.”

“Go to waste?” I asked, somewhat incensed by his words, “Are you saying my life was meaningless?”

I wasn't sure why I was so angry at that, I had told myself the same thing more times than I could count. Hearing it from this person though, this divine being who had likely witnessed more lives than I could imagine, hurt more than I cared to admit.

“No lives are meaningless, Riley Davidson.” The voice boomed, making me flinch, “All life, from purest child to the most heinous criminal, has meaning. They shape the existence of others, in good ways and bad, and as such have intrinsic value far beyond your comprehension.

No, my issue is with how you chose to live. You lived without purpose, without cause or reason as you simply wandered through your days in a mindless fog. That is not living, that is squandering the gift that Life itself gave you.”

I scowled at his words, “I tried, okay? I tried to live like everyone else. I tried to fix whatever was wrong with me, to be happy like everyone else around me was, but I just couldn't do it!”

“And you gave up. If you had not died that night, how long would it have been before you took your own life? Months? Weeks? Days? I know the answer, and I suspect you do as well.”

I didn't have a response to that. I lowered my head, gritting my teeth as I did so.

“Your life was one fraught with trials and tribulations, but instead of facing these obstacles, you chose to bow your head just as you are doing now. Humans are incredible beings, durable and determined. There is no adversity that cannot be overcome with the sufficient amount of motivation, I promise you that.”

The being didn’t sound angry, just disappointed, and if I were capable of it at the moment, I was sure I would have felt shame for provoking such a reaction, “It is a shame you didn't find said motivation in your old life. Perhaps in this next one, it will be different.”

Wait what? I barely had a chance to widen my eyes before I gasped as a feeling I could barely describe suddenly overtook me, like the shock of getting into a pool but inside of my body instead of outside.

“You are one of the lucky few who get another chance, child. Be sure that you don’t waste it.”

My world spun around me, colors I couldn’t describe flitting past me as I was suddenly slingshotted away from the void to somewhere else. Existence itself seemed to unravel around me as my very essence was pulled taut, stretching to the point of breaking but never quite managing to reach that breaking point.

And then, just as quickly as it had begun, it was over, and I was somewhere new. Somewhere that was somehow worse than the place I had been moments ago.

I was laying in a bed, a really cheap one judging by the feeling of the lumpy mattress pressing against my back. I grimaced, my entire body feeling like someone had chewed me up and spit me back out.

None of it was worse than the searing pain radiating through my head though. It was as if someone had taken a sledge hammer to my skull over and over again to the beat of some rock song, and I could barely even move my hand up to clutch my skull without feeling like I was about to pass out from the action. My fingers slid against rough bandages, and it only took the action of trying to open my eyes to realize that they wrapped around my entire head.

I tried to say something but my voice was muffled and even then the act of trying hurt my throat. It was dry like a desert, as if I hadn't drank anything in weeks.

Even so, my actions drew the attention of someone nearby. “She’s awake. Get the cuffs back on her before she tries something stupid again.” A gruff voice ordered. Almost immediately, someone lifted my wrist, clamping a ring of metal down on my oddly thin limbs.

I would have resisted but I was just so tired. Unnaturally tired. I didn't know what was going on but I had been out to sleep enough times to know that I was on something. Something probably meant to keep me from fighting back against whatever was being done to me.

“I'm surprised this one is still alive. Her skull was basically in pieces, right?” A man to my right said as my body slowly relaxed thanks to whatever drugs were being pumped into my system.

“Oh yeah she's a feisty one.” Another agreed with a laugh. It was the man who had ordered someone to put cuffs on me. “I thought that taking a blow to the head from the warden of all people would have put her down for good but here she is.”

The other man laughed, the sound muffled as my consciousness began to slowly fade away, “It still might have. We haven't seen what that hit did to her. She might be completely useless in the mines now and you know what we do with those. Celestial Dragons don't tolerate weak slaves even this far away from the Holy Land.”

Celestial Dragons? The phrase tickled something in the back of my mind but it was getting hard to focus on anything but the fuzzy sensation filling my head. I tried my best to listen, wanting more clues as to exactly where I had ended up, but even that was an exercise in futility. I was slowly slipping away.

“Like a kid as young as her was useful anyway. That's probably why she was punished in the first place. Couldn't keep pace with the rest of them.”

His friend said something in response but by now their voices were too muffled by the sleepy haze filling my head to understand.

And as I slowly succumbed to my body's desire to pass out, confused and slightly afraid at what I had heard, I couldn't help but think that wherever I had been sent might just be worse than where I had died.