Near Death Experience (18+) ✔️

1.

I could never fathom the feeling of death, nor the thought of what would happen after. Would I suddenly become hot and burn in the depths of hellfire, or would my past welcome me as they had waited years for me? Could I become reincarnated into another person or animal?

Or would it just be darkness? Empty and void of anything besides my consciousness to lay in for eternity. The thought of it made my stomach turn, made my head spin in fear and this deep feeling I couldn't describe without the word of dread. Now the act of dying I didn't fear, but what comes after terrified me to my soul.

As I watched her body be buried, the thought of death wouldn't leave me. She was going through everything I was thinking, holding the answer so close but unable to speak of it. I could hear the Priest talking and praying for her soul, but I couldn't focus on it. He felt miles away from where I stood as the rain pelted my hair and lashes. She was so close yet truly so far from me now, death separating us as if we were on two planets.

I was utterly alone now. The last of my family now had dirt being placed over her, sealing her into the earth. I felt the hands of friends place their hands on my shoulders in silence until I stood there alone. My gaze read the tombstone that was placed delicately at her resting spot, tearing quietly flooding my eyes.

Maria Madden. 1932 - 1973

"Goodbye Mum", I muttered quietly as I sniffled away from the burial ground. I couldn't be bothered to go to the memorial everyone had left to go, I couldn't face them. All I would hear would be condolences and pity, which are the last thing I need now. I needed to keep going, to keep walking away. After all, it was all I could do.

All I was good for.

It didn't matter anymore, she was gone. Leaving me alone on this god-forsaken planet, leaving me...leaving. My thoughts wouldn't stop, I didn't know how to make them stop. All I knew was that if I just kept walking, maybe it would be alright. Maybe this was just a bad dream, maybe this wasn't real. But I was never good with hope, hope was for the weak. There was no hope, there was only action and doing. Not dreaming and waiting.

As if unconsciously I made my way to the bar on the main street of town, in the middle of the storm that was both in my head and out. The streets around me were deserted, making it look like a ghost town as I could only hear the rain pelting down against the chipped sidewalks. As I walked towards the pub, the warm light emitting from the stained glass windows did not attempt to lighten my soul. Swinging open the front door, welcomed by the smell of damp carpets, and whiskey I made my way to the bar top. I collapsed as my figure sat down on the cold metal chair and my damp hair fell around my head onto the cold counter.

"This is a depressing sight, Addy", I heard the muffled voice of the man making me raise my head to look at the owner.

Franky Wiledsted.

Franky Wiledsted was a stout man with a grizzled face that had seen many years. He had a bald head with a hint of white hair wrapped around the sides. His eyes were a deep blue, like an ocean, with deep wrinkles at the corners that spoke of a life of laughter and sadness. He was wearing a white shirt with black suspenders and a pair of dark denim jeans. His face was stern but there was a hint of kindness in his eyes. He had a gruff Irish voice that carried the weight of all the stories he had heard over the years. He had a reputation for keeping secrets and being a person that could be trusted. He had a presence that made you feel at ease, almost like you were at home.

"Just buried my mother", I said with a fake smile that showed my exhaustion from today. My words seemed to make him tense, as he began pouring a whiskey on the rocks before sliding it over to me. He shook his head before muttering quietly to me, "I'm sorry lass, I forgot that was today."