I uh, didn't think dying would be this visceral. And not nearly as fucked up.

Well, I knew it would be bad. But this bad, damn. My lungs feel like shit. Oh, and also, I realize this probably isn't the best way to start my story. Forgive me. However, If I could take back killing myself, I probably would. Or I'd at least like to let you know, that in hindsight, I'd have done it differently. Preferably unsuccessfully, but I can admit that I went about this all wrong. But now that I think about it. Out of all of the ways I could have chosen to die. Burning myself alive wasn't my most divinely inspired idea. Not by a long shot, but are there really any good ways to die? Maybe more convenient ways for sure. But is there really a best way? No, probably not.

However, I do think that the absolute worst way to possibly die. Would be something like the guy on that old cable show I watched as a kid. It was called, “1000 ways to die.” The title speaks for itself I think, and you wouldn't believe what kind of things get people killed.

But to get to the point, I am thinking of a very specific episode. And in this episode, there was this idiot who saw one of those big inflatable balls people can get into. You know, the large ones you can play human soccer with. But instead of kicking the ball, of course, you are the ball. And the guy on this episode thought to himself, “hm… I bet I could go down a mountain with that.” After thinking this, he proceeded to jump from a cliff, and die to his miserable death because the, “perfect gravity shield”, got popped by a rogue cactus plant. Now this guy was ugly before he got in the ball, but by the time he hit the bottom of the mountain. He was mangled the fuck up. His body was all twisted up and he wasn't even alive by the time he hit the base of the mountain. So I think considering it all, that would be one, if not the worst way I've seen somebody go. And if I went the truck-kun route, I figured I would be no worse. Not to mention the clean up would be insane. Plus, I don't want someone else to feel responsible for my death.

It’s the world I hate, not the people.

Now, having contemplated all of this, I did some research. And I found out that burning alive was one of the very worst ways to die, but if done correctly, it could be painless. However, I had also heard most people tend to pass out by way of asphyxiation before they even knew they were dead. So in a way, it's like they died before they even knew there was a problem.

Of course I really did mean to kill myself, and I did. But, I still figured I could go out with some pride, and maybe even skip the painful steps if I was careful about it. So this seemed like a solid way to achieve my goal.

Goal one, die in a blaze of glory. Two, die in a way that blames no one else for it, and three, die in a way that doesn't hurt.

But oh boy did I fuck that up too.

I’d like to say that I had a lot of reasons for doing it. Though there were none that were good. Nor any that were justified or could be forgiven. So in saying that, I truly am sorry for what I did. I realize I must have hurt a lot of people. That includes the people I knew, and the ones I didn't. But as it is now, I will never get the chance to apologize to them. Not in a way that would actually make things any better. And none that, again, I could really justify. I mean, I could try to defend myself. But, I doubt it would be too convincing. I'm sure others have had it way worse, and to be honest with you. Despite my failure. I had this pretty well planned out. But the only thing that really ruined it, was the sudden realization, that in the midst of a burning house. I actually didn't want to die.

So, fast forward, past all of my planning.

I’m going to die in a few minutes. So the best I can do now is explain myself to you. And I can make my excuses with whatever time I have left in me.

So, I guess to start.

About a week ago, I found my girlfriend in our bed with another man. Now, that isn't the only reason I wanted to die, I'm not so edgy. But it was just one of many reasons, and it was also the last straw. Because the truth is, this was a long time coming for me, and I had been diagnosed with depression a few years ago. I won’t blame the depression. But it definitely acted as an accomplice.

You see, I knew she was fooling around with someone for a while. I just never called her out on it because she was the only one who would stick around for me.

And she was there when I ran away from my highly abusive father, and she was there at the funeral when he eventually killed my mother.

So I figured I deserved it, the cheating, since she didn't need to be there to pick up all of my falling pieces.

But she was anyway, you know?

She could've just let me fall, but she didn't. Looking back, she was the one who confronted my father in prison when I was too afraid to give him a piece of my mind after his sentence.

Even behind bars, I was terrified of him. And regardless of how much I hated him, and how much he deserved to rot, and suffer. I blamed myself for not being home when the beatings got worse for my mother. Even now, I still blame myself, and I think I killed my mother. But for some reason I could never muster up the courage to face the monster, and in all that time my girlfriend was always there for me. She was the embodiment of bravery. But instead of taking in her inspiration and asserting myself. I gave her all of the responsibility. I thrust upon her every one of my problems and expected her to save me. Using the excuse of a beaten child. Helpless, and in need of excuses. I made her fight my battles. So in the end, I guess I felt like it was my fault she was cheating. Like it was my fault she wasn't happy. It was my fault she was getting tired of me.

And yeah, maybe I wasn't good enough. Or handsome enough. But I was never handsome. Not even average, really. Just somewhere between ugly and acceptable. Hell, if I'm being really honest. I was barely presentable on the best of days. So a part of me just accepted what she was doing. As though someone like me owed her that. Because she deserved to have a good looking man. Not, you know, me.

And I never really had many friends in high school. So she was the last one I had around by the time we got into college. I was excited just to have her around all the time, and I took that for granted. And I abused her kindness until she had none left for me.

She always was the one who kept me safe. She was the one who followed me into the college I had gotten accepted into despite the better schools she had gotten into. And although It was nothing special to me, she wanted to be there, and I felt lucky for it, but I didn't respect her for it.

But, of course, that luck just wasn't bound to last for long. Because in just a few months of studying , I had dropped out. I Had used that all too well known excuse, “maybe it wasn't for me?” You know?

The everyday grind of school work, and all of the classes I had to pay for. Only to have to educate myself at the end of the day. While the school benefited from the money I had to pay to take classes that had nothing to do with my major.

As you could guess, she didn't take the news of my decision so well at first. But she relented when I said I would get a job as soon as I possibly could. And that I could still provide and take care of her needs. You know, that I could still be useful to her.

So in saying that, she stayed in school to be a registered nurse, and I got a job in construction. And slowly, I took more and more hours to cover the expenses that I could manage. But it was never really enough for her.

In hindsight I could understand how she would be embarrassed by me. But eventually she would graduate and become a nurse. And I would just be the same old me. Playing video games, and complaining over how unfair life could be. How shit final fantasy 15 was, compared to every other FF game. Working my ass off just to pay rent, and then buy rpg’s. I spent all of my money on gacha games, and mmo’s while she was saving for the future. I was your average waste of space. Just a regular worker.

It wasn't all bad, but it could be really bad sometimes. And at the end of the day it was okay. Because she was the only person I had. So I felt I was lucky.

Then, one day, I found her fucking some dude in my bed and I had finally had enough of being a burden on her. And I felt that I should get rid of myself before she had the chance to. Because she had been so good to me, and I wanted to preserve my final thoughts of her to stay that way. But I just couldn't take it anymore, and I left her.

I moved in with a cousin of mine until I could scrounge up enough to get my own place. And I did. But of course I was still alone. We didn't talk again after I left. It was understandable. Of course, I was just a burden.

Then, eventually I lost my job. And I had to avoid paying rent just to feed myself. Of course, after that I was served a notice of eviction and I thought, “Maybe this just isn't it for me.” Maybe I didn't need to be around. It’s not like anyone needed me anyway. And If I was going to get snuffed out regardless, I might as well just do it on my own fucking terms.

So I took out a loan and used the money to purchase life insurance. Setting the beneficiary as my ex-girlfriend. I Wrote a few notes addressed to her, and one to my dad. Mailed them to her with my well wishes and apologized for the time I stole from her. I thought, you know, maybe I could still do some good.

I won't go into the details, but I figured out a way to set my apartment on fire without making it look like I started it. I messed with a few electrical wires, turned the stove on and went to bed. I figured that I might regret my decision half way through, so I bought some drugs that would put me to sleep pretty quickly. That way I couldn't back out. Because if I backed out I’d only be making more trouble for someone.

I took them, and eventually when the drugs kicked in, I layed down, closed my eyes, and let go.

However, I woke up prematurely. And it was too late to escape, but too early to go peacefully.

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The walls were on fire and smoke clouded the ceiling above me. I was choking but still breathing, dizzy, but barely walking. Hot tears trickled down my cheeks as I made my way to the door. That was when the ceiling collapsed.

And it was far more painful than I thought it would be.

I kind of expected to feel at least a little numb while I died. But this might be the most intimate I had ever been with pain, ever.

I could feel my spine slowly rip through the skin of my back. From top to bottom it felt like someone was sliding scissors across my spine. All while someone else poured lava into the wound. And every time I suffered for a breath as the scissors pulled away. I choked for more air. Then again, the pain rippled through my spine on the exhale.

I had up to this point a misconception.

That a broken spine numbs, and paralyzes your lower half when it breaks. But this was only half right of course, and I learned how wrong I could be first hand.

Because I felt everything.

The cracking of my ribs as burning lumber pushed down on my stomach throwing my insides into my chest. I couldn't move my legs, but I felt them burning. It was so hot it chilled me.

The smoke entered my lungs so fast that every labored breath stung worse than the last. More, and more pain as my skin sizzled in my ears. I felt my heart beat push gushing blood out to burning freedom as it boiled and dried in flame. Soon enough my hair caught fire from the wooden lamp that fell over my face. It was three seconds until I felt the heat on my scalp.

But you know the crazy part of it all was that I saw it happen like I was standing in front of myself. Watching myself suffer with no way to help.

Like a spectator.

Wondering if this is how everyone else saw me.

Just a lost cause in a fire I can't put out.

I mean, why burn in a fire meant for someone else, when you can sit back in safety and never feel guilty for it? You know, it's not like you caused the fire yourself. But that in itself is a stupid question to pose, and I already know the answer. And that's because there are no heroes for people like me. So isn't it a fitting way for someone like me to go? And so what if I didn't put up much of a fight? It's not like it really mattered anyway.

But if I put all of the anger and self regret aside, I’m at least proud of having changed my mind in the end. And that in the end I still felt like living, and I’m satisfied with that. But I'm also relieved that it's over. You know the saying, “Do not go gentle into that goodnight.”

And if you don’t, you should check it out. God, or not, I think you’d still like it. But you know everything anyway, so I guess it's whatever.

But now all I have to do is accept my fate in this afterlife. That is, if there is an after life. Or if I have a place in it after killing myself.

But to continue, I was there. Watching my skin crack, get charred, and dry up like charcoal. And in the middle of it all, through some ominous power. I managed to lift my head up in one last act of defiance. Then I saw a shadow in the flames, and the shape of a man standing before me. And as my neck cracked open, and my head fell off. Poof, I was gone.

Transported somewhere far, far away from the morbid view of myself fighting a battle I couldn't win.

Then off I went, into a lush green pasture. Rocks stood tall above me all around. Huge, and upright like giants. Other similar stones were placed neatly atop of the others. Forming a wide circle of stacked white stone.

But I swore I'd seen this before…

“Is this… Stonehenge?” I whispered, expecting nothing but the silence to hear me. But then something replied. Wispy, and ethereal.

“Yes. You may call it that. It has had many names. Though every name but yours has been lost to time,” spoke a voice, soothing yet authoritative. Not a man, but also, not a woman, “Your people once knew it well.”

“My people?” I thought, what is that supposed to mean?

I stood to my feet in the grass and replied, “Hey… not to be rude or anything. Ominous voice sir. But, I’m dead? Right?”

The voice responded, “Yes, you are dead.”

“Really?” I questioned.

“Yes.”

“Oh, okay.” I mumbled.

A short silence followed after my response, only to be interrupted by my own voice again.

“So what happens now? Eternal torture? My skin, filled with worms? A pitch fork up my ass? let's go!” I said, breaking the silence.

“Your life has just ended, are you really so… prepared? This must be hard for you. No?” The voice replied with another long silence.

I let out a long breath and shrugged, “Well, no. I have plenty of other questions, but I just feel like you won’t answer them. And, even if I do ask. You still probably won't. So, I mean, it's not like you've answered me before. Forgive me but, i just don't think you… care. You know?”

“No. I do not know.” The voice replied, this time with a tone of condescendence.

“Right, well. Not to place blame, but, I prayed to you for half of my life God. Assuming that you are God, right? And still you never answered me. Not even once, and now here you are. Right here, floating around me, somewhere. And you still have nothing to say but one liners. Frankly, I'm not impressed.”

“I did answer you.” the voice said, “I was all around you. I was everywhere at once, and still, you never listened.”

“See, this is what I mean. You skirt around all of the issues like a bug. Never answering anything, just riddles upon riddles with you. You’re exactly how I imagined you’d be. I am not surprised. Not at all.”

“Is that so…” it said in a whisper, “Then I am what you think I am. You will not listen, and so you do not hear me. But what should I have done with you? Give you every answer? Leave you with nothing to discover? Solve every one of your problems? What good would freedom be if I must create every experience for you?”

“I don't know, but you should have done something. That's all I'm saying. Maybe my mother would still be alive,” I said, throwing my arms in the air, “Maybe my father wouldn't have been a piece of shit, and, I don't know, maybe i wouldn't be so fucking ugly?!”

The voice went silent for a bit before replying, “And what kind of world would that have been for you? A place with no autonomy, no struggle? No adversity… no kindness? Would you have rather been a lifeless doll? Incapable of anything but my designs? Wouldn't that have been lonely for you?”

“Yes!” I shouted, “But It would have been better than suffering for your enjoyment. Because all you ever did was hurt me. You took everything from me. And you let me live for nothing at all. It would have been better if you had never even created me! Fuck. You. I. Hate. You.”

“I see…” the voice said, “Do you wish for that now?”

And as angry as I was getting at his simple replies, and as upset as I had gotten, I said, “…sure, whatever.” But I didn't really mean it.

Did I?

The voice replied, “Is that something you would like? A life with no love? No warmth? Would you prefer not to laugh, or enjoy good food? The sound of ocean waves maybe, or even music? All lost to you forever? No hands to hold? No heartbeat? No comfort?”

“Oh, It would be better than whatever the fuck you gave me! You gave me a father who killed my mom and beat me until my leg didn't move straight.”

“All I gave you was freedom. It was your fathers freedom who hurt you. But if you blame me, I am sorry. I only ever wanted to love you.”

“Love me?!” I shouted. “You, love me!? And who created man!? A different god? Are you not him?”

“I did, but I am not your god. I am your creator.” It replied.

“What the fuck does that even mean? And how is this not your fault? Like what the actual fuck were you thinking? ”

“Do I hurt you now? In your heart you speak ill of me, but do I shut your mouth by force? Do I harm, or curse you? Are you not free?”

“Oh-hoh, you mother fu… You think just because you aren't the one who shit in my breakfast that you're not the one to blame for this? You're just a regular super villain!” I shouted.

A few minutes went by as I caught my breath, and by the time I felt like I was never going to get a response I laid down on my back, and waited for whatever came next.

“Just kill me, or whatever it is that you do. Throw me into the lake fire or some shit, and let's be done with it. I can't make you love me, and I won't ask for your forgiveness. I’m done with you. I’m just done.”

But then the voice rose up out of nowhere. And it came back with that authoritative tone again, and it said, “Listen to me as I speak to you. For I have no name to reveal to you. And I have known myself just as you do. I don't know of a time when I have not.”

I huffed, “Because your god, yeah, I get it. I don't care for your long winded speeches and whatever else you have to say. It’s all excuses, just send me to hell dude.”

“There is no such thing, and I am not so cruel. However…” The voice replied, tapering off into silence.

“...however?” I mimicked.

“If you had the chance to start fresh. In a world brand new to you. Would you take that opportunity? If I could give you a fresh start. A better family this time. A life of love, would you take hold of it?” God said.

Though, it caught me by surprise. And I didn't really know how to respond to that question. Because, frankly, that's the kind of shit you read in isekai novels. But it wasn't truck-kun that got me. I fucking did myself in, and this just sounded way too convenient to hear. I mean seriously. Do we just die with no consequences? Was it really all that meaningless?

And apparently as I thought this, god heard me, and responded, “It was not meaningless. You may not have realized it yet, but you have learned lessons of great importance. How important they are, is for you to decide. However, it is not the end. So, where would you like to go? One of these fantasy worlds you speak of?”

I slowly lifted myself from the ground. Much like a child who finally gets what they want. And the more i realized that, the more pissed off i got.

“Is that really possible?” I replied.

“Very,” God replied, “but is that something you truly want?”

I thought about it for a few seconds before replying, “I don't think it would be a bad thing. Actually, it would be pretty cool if that's the only option I have.”

“It is not,” he said, “you could return to earth, in a new body. However, your current memories will be forgotten.”

“No, I don't think I want to return there.” I said.

“I see.” he replied, “Then to a new one then?”

“Yeah, but, will I get to keep my memories? Can I keep them?”

“Yes,” it said, “if that is what you want.”

“Then that's fine. I guess.”

“Okay, as you wish. You will be reborn anew. However, there is one thing you must know.”

I waited in silence before responding, “... yes?”

“Where you are going there will be a new ruler. Not unlike I, a “God”, as you call me. They will have governance over your soul, and you will no longer be within my reach. And in saying this, you will not have my protection. However, I can grant you a boon of sorts as a separation gift. Is there anything in particular that you would like?”

I didn't need to put much thought into it. And honestly there isn't much that I wanted. But if I was going to be born as anything. It would be useful. Because I had been enough of a burden before, and if I get another shot at this, I won't be again.

So I replied, “I’d like to be of some use. I don't need to be a hero or anything. But if I could be helpful to someone. Even just one person. That would be okay. I could be happy with that.”

“Then you shall have what you desire. I wish you good luck, and farewell.”