The Legacy Of A Tribrid

Mental Note: Floating (Hope)

    One would think, when in an eternal slumber, that there is a place where your consciousness goes to rest. A place to keep busy as you might say. Some might even think your mind goes through a series of scenes, maybe scenes from your life. Or maybe replaying the same dream over and over again. There is also a possibility that your mind drifts over to places people go when they are dead. I think that is the most common assumption that I have ever heard of.
I read a book once about the afterlife and where our souls go. Of course the author most likely knew nothing of what was reality. But it was enlightening nonetheless. The author was quite convinced that we were to be sentenced to judgment. Good souls go to the place called heaven, and the not so good souls went to the other place. Hell, a predetermined wasteland of pain and torture and sadness and the home of the alleged horned menace.
If this is true than I am most certainly damned. But I choose not to believe that Hell exists any longer. Because if it does still exist, Klaus Mikaelson is sure to be sent to the deeepeest darkest dungeon of torture Hell has in store. She chooses to believe that her father would be granted mercy for her sake. Not that she deserved it, in fact she was possibly just as evil as he was. Just as the rest of her family was.
Hopefully, when she was sent down to hell, she would be put in a dungeon not too far from her father's. Selfish as she was, she would rather be with her father than be in a better place without him.
But, no, she was not in Hell, she was not in Heaven, she hadn't had any strange recollections from her life and this felt more like floating than a dream.
Yes, that's it, floating, but what where? It felt as though she were in a drugged haze blindfolded but content, is this what death is supposed to feel like? But, she was not dead. Ah yes floating, not dead, floating.
She couldn't remember the time, nor where she was, nor what happened, sometimes she couldn't remember who she was. In times like those she stretched her mind to the vast corners of her sea of memories to pull up the most important ones Yet she couldn't remember why she needed to. Why should she go to all the trouble remembering and stretching and floating and remembering. What was it she needed to remember?
She tried again to search her mind but came up without anything. Nothing at all. She supposed it didn't matter much anyway, floating was quite nice. Maybe she would never stop floating and float so far she would forget how to.
No matter, why would she want to stop floating? After all, what was better than feeling nothing at all?