The world started to fall silenced as if someone were deliberately doing it like a teacher in a class.
Although these thoughts don't even matter anymore cause all I could perceive was the darkness behind my closed eyelids.
No matter how hard I tried to open them , the result were always a naughty.
Trapped inside my own body, I fought against an oppressive feeling, struggling to even summon the smallest movement.
This was the second time today that I had been paralysed by terror—the fear of being forever imprisoned within myself—a sensation so raw that words seemed inadequate to even explain it.
After what felt like an eternity, I finally managed to move. I took a deep breath, finding a small peace that gave me the strength to open my eyes after the traumatising experience.
Only to realise everything around me is completely dark, and slowly all the sensations in my body were brought back, and I could feel I was standing on a solid ground.
Seeing all this nearly confirmed my suspicion—I had truly died. I realized this after falling in front of the train, which had ended me, yet it took an eternity amount of time to accept you have truly died without forming an excuse. In the end, I curled up like a ball and started crying to accept my fate. After all, dying is one thing, but accepting that you are dead is something entirely different.
Memories of the time I was alive began to surface, along with the many simple pleasures I missed by dying too soon—a reality I couldn't accept. It took me a long time, sitting there in that endless void, to collect myself and come to terms with what had happened.
Steeling myself, I wrestled with what to do in this impossible situation as I moved forward, eyes locked on an endless darkness with no end in sight.
Following my first instinct, I searched for a wall or boundary—a small beacon of comfort in this void. But nothing materialized, no obstruction appeared, and I was left with the stark realization that this dark place held nothing at all.
After hours of endless wandering, my legs finally began to tire. Hunger and thirst crept in, forcing me to sit down and lie back, desperate for a moment of rest from the ceaseless and paniced situation.
It was a deeply saddening experience, especially for someone who is only 18. Everything had happened so fast—in just one day, I had died and entered a strange, unknown place.
How pathetic the state I was in, only made me laugh at myself with tears in my eyes.
I never wanted to admit it, but I've listened to many mythology stories and read countless novels. If I try to piece everything together, it seems this place is either a void—a vast, empty nothingness—or perhaps I'm exiled from the cycle of rebirth. Maybe after death, all that's left is endless wandering.
Not knowing what lay ahead, I rose and began walking, steeling myself for the journey—even if it meant days of endless steps. I might as well walk until I perish a second time from hunger and thirst, or until my feet finally give in.
That's when I began to notice the creeping sensations of hunger and thirst. Yet, they were merely feelings—illusory in nature. In reality, I could walk just as well, my strength intact as though I were nourished by the rest that had eased my tired body. It was as if, in this place, the sensations simply accumulated, piling up in my mind without truly weakening me. Still, the constant presence of hunger and thirst over days was unsettling.
These feelings grew worse. I could move, but an unrelenting thirst overpowered everything else, turning every step into a struggle. After what felt like the brink of death as a week passed and I crossed the natural human limit with these illusionary piled up feelings. It surge forth with even greater intensity.
Desperate, I started hitting and scratching myself, trying to dull the burning pain caused by the thirst. Somehow, through the torment, I kept moving.
This place was an endless punishment. And then I finally realized—I had entered the Abyss.