As I come into awareness, I realize I can't see anything.

Or, maybe there's nothing to see?

Am I in a coma? Did I survive? Or is this the afterlife?

I feel floaty; as if all my earthly weights have been stripped from me. All I feel is free and light. It feels... amazing.

No longer do I have to worry about my future, about whether I'll ever be able to be myself or if I'll be trapped in the loop of my mind's own making. I feel as if I have no more worries.

No worries of keeping a false face to keep my parents happy so that they don't abandon me. No worrying about whether adult life would be worse than my childhood.

Hell, I can't even feel my repressed emotions I had locked away. I hadn't even realized they were holding ne down this much. All I feel is light, airy.

But.. not happy.

My belief is that human life revolves around happiness. If you're not happy, you don't lead a fulfilling life. It doesn't matter what it is that makes you happy. To some, other's happiness is what uplifts them. To others, it could be suffering instead. No matter what it is, if you die satisfied and happy then you've lived.

But I didn't.

I died full of hopes for a happy future, but I wasn't happy just yet. There was still plenty I wanted to do.

I was 18, for fucks sake! I had just became an adult!

After years of waiting, planning to finally be free of my overbearing family...

Ugh.

Might as well keep reflecting, while I float in the darkness with no body to speak of.

My family consists - consisted? - of a father, step mother, half sister and brother, and another brother. Though, I'm unsure whether he was a half or step brother, considering he's the one no one ever talks about because they're ashamed of him.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

As for my biological mother, she died when I was very young. And I witnessed it.

I recently learned she was on drugs that conflicted with her prescribed medication and gave her anger issues. She had an altercation with her friend - who she owed drug money - and pulled out a taser which lead to her getting shot. With me in the car nearby.

I was fine, except for being in shock. And traumatized. Coincidentally, a concerned citizen who made sure I was alright had the same name as the woman who shot my mother.

That's all I remember of that day. Suppression is my specialty, after all.

After that and my sister's near death experience my dad became overprotective. Which is fair, but also annoying for a growing kid. His attitude and my step mother's Christianity smothered me.

I would get disappointed looks for watching anything with cursing in it, got grounded for any curse that slipped from me, and I had to learn most real-world information myself.

Due to this, and being unable to show my true self in fear of being punished, I shut down. I made sure to act how they wanted, even though it wasn't who I was.

The only friend I ever had was wary of me because of my apathetic thoughts towards life. Especially my habit of putting myself above others. It had felt nice to be myself around someone for once and not be instantly dismissed. Though, we grew apart after they quit high-school and ran away from home. And then I was back to loneliness.

My dreams were the only place I could thrive. I slept as long as I could - sometimes over 14 hours - and even when I wasn't lucid dreaming, I was afraid of waking up. My eyes within the dream wouldn't open or would be half-lidded. My dreams were always very realistic- to the point where I could feel any new limbs I'd have (which was a common theme), feel the wind against my face when I dreamt of flying, felt adrenaline when in danger... I could even feel magical energy whenever I could do magic.

I became obsessed with my dreams, and with the world of fiction. I would create my own worlds and characters with insane amounts of detail. I'd even imagine how I would fit in them. And what my new form would be.

I didn't want to be human anymore. There's so much wrong with their bodies. The unhealthy spines, the birth defects, the way having a child is so fucked up that issues in mothers are common, the mental disorders. Maybe I'm biased because I've been human my whole life, but they're just plain unfunctional and boring-looking.

I've imagined scenarios such as what wishes I would use with a genie- back up plans and wording that would ensure me incredible power. Why wish for a specific thing, when I could have power equal to or better than the genie themself and give myself anything I want?

I would watch anime, cartoons, everything fiction and imagine myself in the shoes of various characters. Wondering what I would do differently. How would I change things and what adventures I would go on?

Maybe, I should come to terms with my death as well.

I never felt more than a slight cautiousness over death. In fact, sometimes I'd lie awake at night and get a thrill thinking of death. I had always hoped the afterlife would be interesting, like traveling worlds or even making your own.

The thought of heaven and hell didn't comfort me, since the criteria for either vary depending on who you ask. Certain people would say I'd go to hell because I romantically like the same gender. And the opposite gender, though usually that part is glossed over.

But, currently it seems all the afterlife is, is eternal nothingness. All I'm doing is floating in darkness with nothing but my thoughts to accompany me. I appreciate the feeling of weightlessness - and the time to gather my thoughts - but hopefully this is only temporary. Like a waiting room for the afterlife.

Maybe there's beings watching me without my knowledge, judging my every thought and reflection to see if I'm worthy for peace or eternal torture. I, personally, would say fuck those people because everyone has different values and no single person can judge that.

Well, unless they judge based on the individual's beliefs. Then that would be fair. Man, all the hypocrites that would screw over would be hilarious.

While I'm focusing on the present, I wonder why I feel so calm and floaty?

I mean, sure I'm dead and I don't think I'm the type to freak out about that either way, but why do I feel as if I have no regrets? I'm damn sure I wish I had been able to do more in life - maybe at least create a popular video game. But I don't feel bad about it, I don't feel regretful.

《I can explain that.》