RÊVERIA

*** PROLOGUE ***

"... 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐢𝐫."

- 𝟏 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝟒:𝟏𝟕 -

God created us from dust billions of years ago and initially intended to let us be immortal. But after the sins of our ancestors, He'd later decided that there should be one day in the future of our lifetimes when we shall all return to the dust we originated from – the day we die, of course.

     Or at least, that is only what some of us would like to believe.

     'Some of us' as in a couple of those present at the funeral you are to read about right now.

     Not all people view God in the exact same way, do they?

     It's all right, though. 

     Even if you so happen to be one of those types of people who don't see God the way Christians do, He's not really going to judge, hate or blame you for that. It doesn't matter to Him what name you call Him, what gender you see Him as, whether you view Him as a person or many people at once, whether you view Him as just nature itself or even whether you just don't even regard His existence the way the religious folks do. It really does not matter if you believe in an Afterlife or oblivion or whatever after death; it's not a big deal on what your religion, sexuality, race, ethnicity, country, gender, financial status or anything else is for that matter.

     God, or nature, will never judge you the way other humans do.

     In fact, all that would really matter when the time comes are the memories you created and the things you did; whether you had a happy and (mostly) morally good life here on earth. It won't matter what any other people had thought of you before.

     We are born into this world alone and, just like that, we shall die alone one day, too.

     It is only you who can really make your life beautiful while you still have it. 

At some time in the past, as this story begins now, the sun beat down almost harshly upon the outskirts of Birmingham on one particular day as a few people had gathered up together at a humble graveyard for, of course, a funeral procession. There was respectful silence from some as prayers were said by others for the one being laid underneath the earth to turn completely into dust one day in future. A few hymns had also been sung right before the prayers were being said. They were all sweating like pigs underneath the scorching sun, as if they were in a desert, but they couldn't really do anything about that in the name of love and respect.

     Amongst those who were present at that funeral, there was a copper skinned old man with hair the colour of vanilla ice cream and glasses framing eyes that had witnessed quite a lot of events, both good and bad, throughout the many years of his existence. He appeared to be one of the more prominent looking ones at the procession, for he stood more closer to the grave than anyone else did (apart from the gravediggers, of course).

     There was a brother whose greatest childhood heroine had been this sister whose corpse was being buried right there in front of him. He stood there silently with his wife who was holding the hand of a small girl at her side. He and his little family were the ones who accompanied the white haired man most of the time at that moment. Perhaps that man was his father.

     There was also a woman with the most beautiful of eyes who played her own tune on a violin. That tune was written many years ago as a child out of happiness, but could seemingly also be played during sad events. There were hardly any tears in those soulful eyes because they'd all been used up a few days earlier when they should've been used up the most. And even at this moment, the sorrow could be seen on her face and, most of all, heard from that tune. She, however, stood somewhere at the back so that her playing wouldn't be interrupted and also for a few other more important reasons. 

    Then there was a young boy, about twelve or thirteen perhaps and also with beautiful eyes just like that aforementioned female violinist, who stood close alongside the man with the white hair and the other younger man's family.

     And of course, there were a few more loved ones whose faces, along with all those mentioned above, had remained as bright as lanterns in the dying memories of the one who was being buried, when her life had flashed before her eyes as she'd taken her final breath before these events.

     So, this was what the gravestone looked like to those who saw it at that moment:

𝐏. 𝐌. 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐟

𝟮𝟬𝟬𝟲 - 𝟮𝟬𝟰𝟲

𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗮 𝗽𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗱𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺,
𝘄𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘀𝗼𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲𝗻.

Waking up from the dream that is life can be a different experience for everyone and there's really nothing to be terrified of or even worried about your death either. If it is the time for you, do not be afraid to accept it.

     But then again, coming back to the present moment, we know that there's also certain people who may have died unexpectedly without really knowing about it, right? Like, they just never expected death to come for them at that random particular moment... but yet they died anyways. One minute they were here and the next second they were no more. There wasn't even fear or acceptance. It just happened.

     So, what about them?

     What really happens to those people after they die?

     What actually happens after an untimely death?