The Starting Point

When I was just five years old, a pastor at our church uttered words that would haunt me for years: "Don't love this world, it's a sin." Back then, I couldn't comprehend his meaning. After all, didn't he preach about God's sacrifice for our sins, about forgiveness and love? Yet those words resurfaced in my mind as I stood at the precipice of the world, gazing down at the bustling streets below.

Life moved on relentlessly beneath me. Cars zoomed past, people laughed and chatted, seemingly oblivious to the struggles of others. From my vantage point, they resembled ants scurrying about, each with their own purpose and destination. How I envied them—their wealth, their power, their freedom. But I was none of those things. I was a beggar, relegated to the lowest rung of society, treated like vermin by those who deemed themselves superior.

Day after day, I endured their scorn, their disdain, their indifference. They looked at me as though I were less than human, unworthy of their regard. And perhaps I was. Perhaps I was nothing more than the refuse they stepped over without a second thought.

"Heh."

"Heh... Hehe."

"Hehehehe."

"HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!"

The laughter bubbled up inside me, a bitter, twisted sound borne of years of resentment and pain. I wanted to make them see, to make them feel the same despair that gnawed at my soul. So I leaped from the tenth-floor ledge, hurtling toward the crowd below—a perfect landing spot for my final act of defiance.

"NOOOOOOW TAAAAKE AAA VVVVERY LLLLLOOK ATTTT THISSSSS PIECEE OF S*T! BUWAHAHA----"

"THUGGGG!"...

And just like that, it was over.

As I plummeted towards the unforgiving pavement, I couldn't help but wish I could see their faces, the shock and horror etched upon them as they witnessed my descent into darkness. Perhaps then they would understand—the pain, the anguish, the relentless torment that had driven me to this final, desperate act.

But here I am, feeling as though I'm in a void with nothing to sense. I thought that when a person died, the soul would leave the body and wander around, but I was wrong. After I jumped from the building, it was so sudden that I didn't feel any pain. When I opened my eyes, I was here, in this dark, hopeless void. I couldn't feel my body nor hear any sounds around me. I thought,

"Ah, is this hell?"

Well, I'm not wrong because it's too dark to be called heaven.

Time seemed to stretch infinitely in the void. The complete absence of sensation was overwhelming. There was no ground beneath me, no air to breathe, no sound to hear. I was floating, adrift in a sea of nothingness. I couldn't feel my body at all. It was as if I had been stripped of all physicality, reduced to a mere consciousness suspended in the emptiness.

Surprisingly, I found solace in the void. Here, no one could hurt me, mock me, or look at me with disgust. I was free from the constant scorn and disdain that had plagued me in life. In this void, there was peace. It was a cold, empty peace, but it was peace nonetheless.

I began to appreciate this emptiness. It was better than the earth, where I had been nothing more than a beggar, a nuisance to those who passed me by. Here, I was alone, but in a way that felt comforting. No expectations, no judgments, no pain—just endless, quiet darkness.

Hours might have passed, or perhaps it was mere moments—time had lost all meaning. Then, out of the void, I noticed a faint light. At first, it was just a tiny speck, barely noticeable against the backdrop of black. But it grew steadily, coming closer and closer.

I wasn't scared. After everything I had endured, fear seemed a distant memory. The light approached, its brilliance growing more intense. I didn't want to feel anymore, didn't want to be pulled from this comforting darkness. I closed my eyes tightly as the light engulfed me, its searing brightness burning through the void that had enveloped me.

The pain was sharp and immediate, a stark contrast to the numbness of the void. It was as if the light was piercing through my very soul. My eyes squeezed shut, trying to block out the overwhelming brightness.

As I lay there, enveloped by the light, I began to hear a voice. It was distant and muffled at first, a low murmur that I couldn't quite understand. The words were foreign, their meaning obscured by the ringing in my ears.