System Reboot || DC

Chapter One

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Deal with the Dead

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At first, the darkness comes like strong protecting arms, encircling me till the promised daybreak. Within it, I am once again reborn as a child, protected behind the barriers of my pillow fort. In this vast space, relaxing in the cricket's lullaby, my eyes are as brilliant as the constellations above, stardust atoms pursuing the stars till they may bask in the brightness of the sun.

But daylight never comes and I never awaken.

The darkness of death was not like any blanket of night that sought dreams and rest. No lullabies or bedtime stories were told here. Only black emptiness swirled like an endless void.

Dying was analogous to burning a book before reading the finale. Putting a stop to a movie before the last fight. Breaking a heart that you adored. Tossing a cake into the trash without eating it. Putting in the time and effort to develop something, just to have it all snatched away without a second's thought.

Death was a stifling relief that brought nothing but glorious silence.

I preferred silence when reading and sleeping. At least, I think I did. I don't remember much about anything. Little snippets floating like dust. Sometimes I could grasp onto it and see a flicker of what was once my life. Not enough to see a clear picture, but it kept me fairly entertained during these long crawling moments of boredom.

I wish there was something other than this desolate darkness. White noise from something living. Like a rustle of leaves. The sound of ancient wood creaking in the wind. Snoring of insomniac giants. There was always something that kept the silence from becoming too quiet. It was odd to be without it.

It had been an abrupt change, from a hazardous ruckus to a bleeding and deadly quiet. A dismal shadow that obscured my body from everything that could possibly exist in this bleak world. I was included in this. I quickly realized that I couldn't see my hands, which I tried desperately to wave in front of my face. The more I attempted to accomplish anything, the less I remembered how my limbs looked and felt.

Like trying to remember a word but never quite being able to grasp it, leaving a numbing sensation that drove you insane.

Everything seemed light but weighty at the same time. A pressure that poured on me like water, raising me high in the air, sucking me deep into its depths, and demanding that I remember what I had forgotten. Fuck to if I know what I needed to remember. The most I could figure out were hazy faces and muffled voices calling out a name desperately.

I could also recall a warm embrace and a sense of anguish. Hearing a bellowing scream and a gargled sob. Was someone crying? It's good to let it out sometimes, I hope they feel better soon. The more these sensations called out to me, the further away they got until finally, they ceased in a shuddering coldness.

Why did they stop?

Because I was dead.

That I was aware of and comprehended. It was the only thing that shouted at my invisible face and reverberated in my unseen ears. It sang to me, begging me to accept my fate and finally move on. Two forces played tug of war, one wanted me to remember my life and the other wanted me to embrace death.

What was so important that my subconsciousness yelled out desperately for my stupid brain to remember? Was it a goal that had yet to be accomplished? A broken promise? A person I needed to comfort? A heart that needed mending? A painful history that needed to be healed before forgotten?