The whispers in the air, briefly like a blow in the ears. Water dropping, one by one. Those tiny sound, from where it comes?

 *Tap tap*

 Shoe soles're clapping, someone's walking, on a tingling ground.

 "What am I?"

  A silent voice, from who? 

 "Living...Am I living? Or just existed? Why do I even live?"

  A silhoutte's blurring in endless void, no light, no sound. 

 "What exactly is human? Feels, what is it, truely? Do I need to be a human, to attain happiness?"

  Voices echo in the air along with multiple images, together they look like a film being played.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

 "Human to human, between them there always has a string-an invisible, hidden ones, of lineage, of conscience. But the string eventually get tangled, and tying them in a messiest way possible. They calls it is emotion, is faith. So what really are they?"

 "You shouldn't have existed! You aren't even a human!"

  "This world looks like a mirror. The images of life reflect the whole surface via humanity's light. The reflection will change differently from different aspect of consciousness. A person would always care about their image in the other's mind, but would they ever look back at themself in their souls?"

 "I'm not perfect. I'm always the false one, right? Right?! No...?"

 "Please take a look at your belows. At there is just a pure water surface, no edge, no bottomness, like a shining mirror. In that infinte abyss is our image, just from a single angle. There are still multiple, multiple mirror like that and they are containing, or reflecting uncoutable pictures of us. 

 Overthere is me, this's also me and so on. All of them, together is just a person, which is myself. As your answer, which of them is me, in countless of me appear in your's? And for you, who would you be?"