From the bright red of blood splatter, to deafening darkness, and to a flash of sudden blinding white—is an experience to what I could only compare to waking up mere minutes before my alarm goes off. Instead of finding myself in my familiar bedroom, the scene that unfolds before me is a vast expanse of blinding white, stretching infinitely.

It wouldn't even be right to call it a room, as there are no discernible walls. Nor does it feel appropriate to label it as a space, for this canvas of pristine white seems to transcend the concepts known to man.

Heck, I can't even tell if I'm standing or floating. As I gaze downward, there appears to be no floor to support my legs and it doesn't seem like I'm floating, as confusing as that may sound in theory. So, I know that at least some level of gravity exists, to the point that I don't find existing in this domain too disorientating for my body.

However, I find myself not alone as within a few feet to my left lies another boy, presumably around my age, still unconscious. It appears that I was the first to awaken. The mere thought of not being alone brings a faint sense of comfort amidst the bizarre nature of this situation.

Upon closer inspection of his facial features, he appears to be in his late teens and of Asian descent, Chinese if I were to be specific, definitely old enough to own a vehicle. However, his height tells me otherwise. With my eyes, I estimate he is around the 165 cm range, or in other words no more than 5'5". The face of a high schooler with the build of a middle schooler is not the most unusual combination I have seen in my 17 years of life.

I decide to test my luck, steeling myself as I tentatively extend my hand toward the unconscious figure beside me. It's a gamble, reaching out to a stranger like this, but the need for answers propels me forward. This boy might hold the key or at least a hint to the mystery of our shared predicament.

My mind races with countless questions as I gently prod his head, feeling the texture of his black hair. I can't help but wonder about his story. What brought him here? Is he as bewildered as I am, or does he hold the answers I seek? The weight of uncertainty hangs heavy in the air, urging me to press on despite the lingering doubts that gnaw at the edges of my resolve.

Although I have my own speculations regarding our inexplicable arrival in this boundless white abyss, I know that assumptions alone won't suffice. Years of experience at any academic institution has taught me that external observations often lead to large error margins when drawing conclusions.

After transitioning from gentle prodding to slightly violent shaking, the fruits of my labor pay off as the boy begins to stir. As his eyes slowly open, I seize the opportunity to initiate a conversation. Social interaction hasn't always been my forte, but I know how to start a conversation if my life depended on it and that is right now.

I lock eyes with him, my gaze unwavering, as I extend my hand towards him, offering assistance with a neutral expression. "Salutations, stranger," I begin, my tone businesslike yet casual. "The name's Howard. Quick question, Did you by any chance recently meet your demise?"

Instead of receiving any response from him, it seemed the boy was too stunted to speak. He blinked a few times, taking in his surroundings with a bewildered expression. The endless expanse of white space seemed to captivate his gaze, his features slowly contorting into a wry smirk that exuded equal parts calmness and arrogance.

"Yes, Howard, I did indeed bite the dust recently. My name is Kevin, by the way," he said, finally breaking the silence as he accepted my hand and pulled himself to his feet.

"Then let me ask you this, Kevin, how did you meet your end?" I inquired, hoping to glean as much information as possible from our conversation.

"I believe it's your turn to provide answers... Howard. It wouldn't be an equitable exchange otherwise. So, allow me to return the question to you, How did you die?" Kevin responded, his tone laced with a subtle hint of challenge.

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I couldn't help but be slightly impressed by Kevin's ability to maintain control of the conversation amidst our surreal circumstances. Typically in situations like these, where the environment is alien and the stakes are uncertain, one would typically find themselves more vulnerable to extortion.

"Well, nothing out of the ordinary. I met my end in a traffic accident. And you?" I nonchalantly replied, choosing to keep the true nature of my demise shrouded in secrecy. It's not that I'm opposed to sharing the truth; however, preserving my image is of utmost importance at this juncture as revealing the unfiltered details of my death is a risk I'm unwilling to take.

"Let's just say... I drowned. I was never really a good swimmer," Kevin commented, his gaze drifting elsewhere in the conversation, as if searching for something or someone amidst the endless white void.

"By the way, Howard... since we both died, shouldn't we be meeting God at this point, well, in the novels at least..." Kevin remarked, his voice tinged with a note of skepticism.

As Kevin's words lingered in the air, a sudden shift occurred in the atmosphere. The pure white surroundings seemed to shimmer and distort, and a voice, deep and resonant, echoed through the void.

"Indeed, my children," the voice boomed, its presence filling the space with an undeniable authority. "You have both arrived at the precipice of your new journey."

"Howard, who died from tripping over a rock... pfft... ahem, and Kevin, who... pfft— died from choking on water," the voice of God remarked, punctuated by an amused snort.

As the voice continued, its tone carried an air of condescension, underscoring the seemingly trivial nature of their demise. "Due to the pitiful circumstances surrounding your deaths, I, as God, hereby proclaim that the both of you shall be given a second chance at life. Consider yourselves lucky, I suppose."

"Well, shit there goes my cover," I muttered under my breath, feeling a surge of realization wash over me. It seemed that even in this strange, ethereal realm, one couldn't hide anything from the omniscient eyes of God. As I struggled to pinpoint the direction of his voice within the vast expanse of white, it became apparent that I was unable to perceive his form. This so-called God was indeed the real deal.

The voice of God echoed through the void, its tone strangely familiar yet tinged with an air of passive aggression. It was reminiscent of the depiction ingrained in us by media and culture—an old, wise man speaking into a high-quality microphone with a hint of reverb. I definitely caught onto the fact he had chuckled at mine and well... Kevin's causes of death as well.

Reflecting on the circumstances, I found myself unable to determine which demise was more pathetic: tripping over a rock or choking on water. A slight smirk tugged at the corners of my lips, and it seemed Kevin held the same sentiment as I took a quick glance over at him, observing his attempt to stifle a laugh. However, I quickly pushed the thought aside since if this truly was God, there were personal questions that needed answers. It's not every day you get a direct audience with the crystallization of divinity, the flagship figure of countless religions.

"Then, if I may be so bold... uh, God... Why don't you ever talk to us in the original world? Also, you exist, but you only show up when I'm dead. Why not when I'm alive?" I questioned the voice of God, my tone a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

As I posed my questions to the voice of God, a moment of anticipation filled the air, awaiting His responses. Suddenly, the voice reverberated once more, cutting through the silence with a touch of amusement.

"Why don't I ever talk to you in the original world, you ask?" the voice of God echoed, its tone tinged with snark. "Ah, Howard, my child," the voice boomed, its tone carrying a hint of amusement, "you ask why I do not speak in your world?"

"Perhaps because the chaos of mortal existence drowns out the whispers of the divine. Or maybe," there was a pause, "because when I give out divine messages, you mortals think you're experiencing a seizure or perhaps being delusional. It can't be helped if the majority of your generation aren't devotees of faith in the first place, and that includes you as well, Howard."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at his response, somewhat logical but utterly lazy. Despite his sarcasm, I pressed on with my next question, undeterred by God's divine bullshit.

"And why do you only show up when I'm dead? Why not when I'm alive?" I inquired, hoping for a more straightforward answer this time.

"Ah, the age-old question," came the reply, dripping with sarcasm once again. "Well, because it's much more entertaining to make my grand entrance when you're all ears and no distractions after death. It elicits a much rawer reaction from you mortals."

So, this is the kind of God I'll be trusting to offer me a second life. Might as well see what the devil could offer me at this point.

"So, in the end, what you're saying is that you're just here for the entertainment value.” I muttered under my breath, a mixture of exasperation and resignation coloring my tone.

“How lovely…”