Laziness is agony. A fact that Matt was far too familiar with for his own sanity. Yet, even that fell far short of the despair he felt at having accomplished nothing in his long life. He'd become an old man in his seventies with very little wisdom to share, a fact that he regrets deeply but chose to continue living with even in spite of countless opportunities for personal change and growth slapping him in the face. Figuratively, of course. Sometimes the easy way out is far too attractive... or such was Matt's excuse for remaining set in his ways, even to the day he died.

Well, the day his heart refused to beat again, and failed to revive his worn and broken body. He had torn himself apart neither by helping others nor by achieving results he could take pride in, but by his own inaction forcing his muscles and bones to weaken over time. His mind slipped into madness long ago, and his only conversation partner most days was the voice that he created in his own mind to argue with him over pointless things.

Little did he expect that he would die from heart failure just by turning over in his sleep, yet anyone with a shred of common sense could have watched him for a single day and have expected that result. He put effort into nothing, and spent energy for no one. He had been dead long before the coroner announced it and his chilled corpse was thrown into a heated furnace. He had no last words. In fact, he had no last thoughts, either. 

And so as he awaited his inevitable judgment, his soul conscious only of the fact that his wasteful life was finally over, he knew he would be judged harshly, both by his few despicable actions, and by his unforgivable lack of actions thereof. If his judge were to be some sort of "God", they would surely not forgive his self-indulgent laziness. He lived life with no hope, no joy, no anger, no conviction, and no morals or principles to speak of. If there was anyone who could not be redeemed, surely he was at the top of that list.

As his soul floated among the vast void of infinite darkness, he eventually noticed a small, dim light. His soul was at rest already… would this light grow? Would it approach him? Was something about to occur in the afterlife? Pointless thoughts for a mere soul awaiting judgment. Yet something within the soul that used to be known by the name Matthew believed, albeit momentarily, that he could grasp the feeble light, should he only reach out to touch it with his fingertips. 

He dismissed the thought quickly, realizing that his formless, seemingly gaseous soul had no limbs, hands, or fingers to speak of. However, he could move through the void, albeit slowly, if he exerted his soul a bit with his will to move a certain direction. The light began to fail, flickering and becoming dimmer. Matt knew that this light could be a trap, or perhaps even a result of his own madness in later life, but he also knew that to leave it alone would mean merely existing without any further meaning until the day of his judgment. He had already lived a pointless life, and died a pointless death. He didn’t want to suffer the despair of helplessness even beyond the veil.

Matt exerted what little willpower remained within his soul, in order to attempt to approach the fading shimmer. It remained weak and frail, but as he approached, its flicker ceased and it became more stable, faint as it was. He hesitated for a few moments, trying to understand the meaning of this. However, before he could come to any conclusions, the tiny glowing orb began to show cracks, its damage seeming to reflect his own lack of initiative. Matt knew he had to do something, anything.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

He willed his soul with all of what remained in it to approach the atrophied spark of hope. After all, what good would his soul be when all that remained in store for it was the eternal suffering and pain of damnation? He struggled against the painfully thick fog of pure darkness as he exerted himself, perhaps for the first time ever, to the utmost extent of his existence. The shadows sheared away his soul’s protection, and his eternal existence seemed to fade the closer he came to the light.

Yet, even as his own future faded, the shining orb expanded, growing exponentially. It seemed to chase away the dark, threatening the expanse of the void itself. The gravity of the afterlife seemed to pale in comparison to the splendor of that great sphere of possibility. Matt burned his soul’s last parts in order to form a single fingertip to reach and touch the light, connected to the very core of his soul’s essence by a thin strand of pale purple light. Light that had been corrupted by the darkness of his own soul. Could someone as horrible and pointless as him be reborn?

The light seemed so great and so close, yet so distant and so far out of reach. Matt finally decided to bet his soul’s very existence just to touch the edge of that shining dawn, a sun of dreams and potential. He began to unravel the tiny core of his own soul, his souls consciousness even, to throw his extended finger at the light with everything he is and everything he was, and even betting everything he could ever be. This was his one and only chance.

As his consciousness faded completely and his soul’s core unraveled fully, his fingertip finally made contact with the light. It was no longer a stretching void of endless suffering, but a massive expanse of infinite outcomes. Yet the most attractive part of those outcomes were not the outcomes themselves, but all of the trails, paths, and roads that led to them. Matt’s soul was being reconstructed, his unraveled core of existence being repaired. By whose will, he had no idea and couldn’t fathom, but it was happening. 

Eventually, when his soul was recovered enough for him to regain consciousness, he could see the beautiful, inexplicable scene of myriad futures extending from below where he floated. He couldn’t understand it, and so he merely drank the sight in with his very essence. This was one experience he prayed fervently that he would never forget, even as his soul was judged and cast into the eternal pits of despair and suffering. Even as he wailed and gnashed his teeth. If only he could have seen this sooner, he would have dedicated his entire life to living as a better, stronger person. He would have not only lived for his own selfish desires, but for the sake of others.

However, he knew that was too much to ask for, given his failures in life. Both his wicked actions and his self-indulgent inactions. He blamed others for it all, and the results were that all who knew him came to despise him or pity him, even those who had previously shown compassion. He was the one who pushed them all away, and he knew that now. He could admit that now. But that doesn’t change who he was in life, and who he died as.

“You finally began to learn, even if only slightly.” echoed a small, almost imperceptible voice. “However, will it be enough? That is up to you.”

And then, everything was so blinding and deafening all at once that Matt could perceive no more and his consciousness collapsed.