Hell Is Better With 𝒀𝒐𝒖 - Sequel to Welcome To Hell

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 8.5 - 𝘼 𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙛𝙪𝙡 𝘿𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮

It had been so long since anything had happened. I was becoming increasingly comfortable with the quiet, emptiness of the afterlife when it happened. It was a shock, I really had to focus on it to believe it wasn't my own mind playing tricks on me.

It sounded as though I heard panicked talking, but I couldn't tell much else. I focused so deeply on it from that moment on, hardly believing I was hearing anything other than my own thoughts. I didn't want to miss a single thing.

Loud shrieking and cries. It seemed so loud to me at first, then normal after a few moments. It was a woman, maybe one younger than the other. I couldn't hear much else for a while. I wondered what I could be hearing, maybe I really had gone crazy in this empty vastness.

Soon enough, the voices began to be drowned out by the sound of water, small waves washing ashore maybe. I couldn't exactly pinpoint exactly what I was hearing, but I didn't mind. I listened intently either way, completely interested once I began to hear sirens from afar.

The sound of the water never got quieter or louder, the constant small waves could've pulled me to sleep if I had been alive. The sirens only grew louder, along with the cries of the women. It was confusing, but I didn't want to miss a thing so I listened even closer when I heard a man's voice join.

"Please follow me. I'm so sorry you witnessed this, would you mind answering a few questions with our detectives?" Detectives? I thought surely my own mind was creating this. The women didn't make a sound, the sound of foot steps fading away following soon after.

Not many other noises followed for a while, but the trickling waves of the water never disappeared. I thought deeply about what I could be hearing, and why now. I came up short with any guesses, or answers. None of the voices sounded familiar, it surely couldn't be my own mind making this up, right?

Soon, many voices filled the space, the sounds of cameras clicking also sounding.

"There's no identification on the victim, we've got a John Doe. Probably early to mid twenties." Another male's voice spoke, and this time, all of my answers seemed to be answered. I so badly didn't want it to be so, so I listened closely again. 

Another voice spoke this time, maybe a woman, "The witness says her and her daughter were just walking along the riverbank when they came across his body. Was there any reports of a suicide off of the bridge recently?" 

"No, unless nobody saw the man or didn't report witnessing it. Maybe it was an accident or murder?"

I listened as they talked, feeling as though my own heart could break into two, "Has there been any missing young men in the last few weeks?"

"Just one. I'll find the information and reach out to the family to confirm."

Not much talking followed, the sounds of the camera still snapping, the water still flowing closely, and deep voice men speaking far off somewhere. I couldn't hear any of the details, it sounded like a hum. Maybe it was for the better that I couldn't hear the details. The thought of my parents having to confirm if my body was my own seemed like a gory trophy in an evil way. I felt slightly good about them having to see my body, and hopefully they would know it was partially their fault.

Just thinking of my family sent shock and anxiety through my body, thinking of a funeral where they'd talk about how much they loved me when behind closed doors they have disowned me. I didn't want them to do anything related to my death. I didn't want to hear when they would see my body, or hear the terrible lies they'd spew at my funeral. When would I stop being tortured with hearing what happened on Earth? I left for a reason.

I felt as though I could cry, but I knew I couldn't. I couldn't cry in the afterlife, I hadn't managed to yet if it even was possible. All I knew was that I didn't want anything about my death to be heard. Why couldn't my body have just sunk to the riverbed, never to be seen again? Or to be given back to the Earth, for the animals to feed from?

I hoped that my parents would chose to just quietly bury me, to not make a scene within the community. I knew better to say they would do this, knowing my mother, she'd want a funeral to speak about me poorly. Maybe she'd mention of she could've sworn I was queer and maybe that's why I had done it, that I couldn't live with it. She'd say she's always loved me, a lie she wouldn't mind speaking straight through her teeth.

I could hear as men began to pull my body from the water, the waves coming to an end unfortunately. It was to much to bear, to hear them speak about me as if I wasn't there to hear them. I wanted away from it all, I didn't want to hear what they would say. I forced my new body away, realizing that I could in fact walk away, it got quieter, not quickly, but it did get quieter.

Things moved so quickly, the sound of a body bag zipping around me. I finally found the ability to cry, to release the pent up frustration and sadness. It was a decision I made due to multiple reasons, a decision I still couldn't find the regret for. I didn't regret it at all, but here, listening to my body tragically being pulled from my resting place, wow. Did it hurt.

I ran, something I hadn't known I could do prior, while I cried, something I also didn't know I could do. The voices and sounds of a metal stretcher got quieter and quieter, and my cries louder. I didn't know why moving away from the sounds worked, I wasn't going anywhere. It was all just, emptiness. Blackness. Where was I running to? I didn't know.

I didn't know many answers I had been faced recently, and most hadn't bothered me. But at this moment, the lack of answers drove me insane.