As I lay my head upon my pillow, I dream my dream of sorrow. A dream of lust. Something I will never obtain. What is after death? This question plagued me like a sweet tune stuck in my head, my eternal thought day and night. My life was pestered with the thought of one day perishing from underneath the sun and becoming lost. These days it has been lost on me, money fame and fortune had not come easy. And once it had come, I did not want it. Take the dagger out of my heart and let me rest. Let me rest, but how long will I rest? Will I be awoken with the magnificent clash of thunder? Or will I cease to exist, just some ash scattered across the sea and finally resting at the bottom of the ocean. Dare I think of where I will end up? Questions, all these questions are too hard for me to handle. Stop this, I can’t handle it. Will I get to see my family again, or will I forever be alone. Whatever will await me in the next life I am terrified of so, or is there even such a thing? At night I lay still and close my eyes, just to imagine what it is like to be gone. Your whole life gone, was it worth the while? Was it worth the hardship and hate and love or lust. Will you be remembered, or will you be forgotten? Many questions raised here, and many will remain unanswered, scoff at me for thinking of this. Will I be remembered? No, cast my dust upon the soil and return me to what I once was. No, what if I don’t want to go. I’ve still got things to do, people I love. They can’t take me, it won’t take me.
My body is hurting with the pain it causes itself, the constant torture device that straps itself to my bones. Will this ever end, I doubt it. A figure appears on the side, it’s asking me to go. I take a step back in hesitation but not for long. The searing heat of its eyes tear into my soul, if I go any longer I will surely be burnt to a cinder. “take me” I yell as he grabs me and pulls me behind the wall of sleep. I look into his eyes and it’s me, I can’t believe it. It’s me, my face staring back at me. The man figure wears a black robe, and a mirror for a face. I am staring back at myself, cold and darkness gathers around me, I can hear dirt dropping from above. I can see him still staring at me, staring at myself. “Who are you!” I yell at its face. “I am the Eternal Footman; your inquisitiveness has bought me here”. “I did not want nor ask you to take me, please send me back”. “You asked to be shown the meaning and end of life. You worry about this often; do you want to see?” My heart stops, I still breath but my heart stops, I can’t breathe but I still think. My bones begin to stiffen, oh good lord its happening, why me. Oh, please show me what I’ve come to see. “Very well” He turns me around and I see it, I see what we are, the place thereafter we die. It’s so simple, it makes sense.
This whole story is a lie and it was made by the person who reads it.