One Word Short

Fallen

Thud.

The smell of blood filled his nostrils. He could vaguely feel it trickle down his sides into the mud surrounding him in the ditch which he laid, returning to the earth where it first came from.

But he didn’t care. He looked to the sky.

It was beautiful. Even through the ebbing pain he saw a million sparkles coating the sky, constellations and galaxies and planets, a source of wonder and curiosity, of spirit and the desire to find a way through something they did not yet understand. Even through his busy life, how he travelled the hills and the forest where he had fallen, how he walked from work to home and back again… He had never taken the time to look at the sky like this before.

Before death, it just wasn’t that important.

But now when he looked up at the sky, he wondered. Was something so beautiful designed? Would a God design it? On the one hand, there was no evidence that a God exists and did design it, but on the other hand, there was no evidence that a God didn’t exist, and it was all to chance. The sheer beauty of the universe was undeniable, every bit as intricate as it was plain, as bright as it was dark- the contradictions laid beside each other, as complicated as it is. It is hard to imagine it is due to chance, and yet, there is a possibility that it is, which cannot be denied as much as they cannot deny the possibility that the universe was designed.

His head pounded as if it was being stomped on over and over and over, and yet he kept on thinking.

He was dying, and he didn’t even notice the beauty around him. The gorgeous sky, the feel of cool grass underneath his fingers, the sound of breeze through the surrounding trees… Even through the pungent smell of blood, there were beauty in every sense. And if he didn’t even recognise it while he was living, was his life worth it at all?

Was life worth it while he didn’t concentrate on everything around him?

That seemed to be the usual thought of someone who had died without concentrating at every moment of their life at their surroundings. But while the thought crossed his mind, he began to realise there was more to life than to just appreciate the universe all the time. Constantly appreciating takes energy, just as much as hating did, and the energy could also be used for something else. Family, partners, smiling and appreciating the people around them.

He vaguely recalled his boyfriend. He must be so worried by now. He never regretted spending his appreciation and energy on him.

So in a way, he didn’t regret his life, and he didn’t think he’d regret it if nobody came to save him and he died right here. Would anyone come to save him? His phone had been flung from his hands when he fell into the ditch, and it laid deeper into the ditch, where he could faintly hear it buzz from a incoming text message. He couldn’t reach it. He couldn’t call anyone. So would this be where he died?

He didn’t think he’d mind. It was so beautiful here.

Then again, was this beauty an illusion? A figment of his imagination, which he had crafted to live through his last moments of life? He had heard many, many theories before of what went through a person’s mind before they died. A flash of their life running through their mind. Hallucinations of heaven’s pearly gates, or the warning of hell if they did not repent. Visions of what a person would want to see most before they died. Maybe this was one of those visions. While he had longed the taste of freedom during his life, this was the freedom that he had desired, and therefore this is the vision that had come at the end of his life.

Satisfied with that answer, he took a moment to close his eyes, but then they flew wide open again as a barrage of extra thoughts filled his aching mind.

Was this really freedom? He was dying at nature’s mercy, confined to look at the sky and feel the grass and appreciate the every surroundings. Was that what freedom was, just to be away from the busy life of the working life? It did not seem like freedom, it was painful, just as painful as his manager pushing an extra workload on him as soon as he took a break, the back-breaking ache of being one of the thousands of drones hunching over their computers. Nature is harsh, and a person cannot simply faze back into nature without the knowledge and training that one had a million years ago.

He realised that having never known freedom, that he didn’t know if freedom existed at all, and grabbed his head as a shot of pain ran through it.

Everything was going numb, and he could hardly feel the arm that he was lifting up. He didn’t know why. Was it that his body had finally tired of all the pain? That couldn’t be possible, could it? Perhaps after an eternity of pain, perhaps his body would tire of all the pain and simply not feel it anymore. Perhaps that may happen in hell- if he ever went there. So much pain would happen that he would eventually go numb… And would it be the same concept in heaven too? He would get bored and indifferent towards unending joy. As much as heaven and hell were powerful, humans were human, after all. He had no doubt of that.

He looked back to the sky. It didn’t seem as bright anymore. His time was running out, and he couldn’t hear anyone coming to get him. The stench of blood was as strong as ever, and his mind, his mind which had been thinking so fervently before, was beginning to falter.

He had thought about all these things, but… He hadn’t had many answers. He thought that he might have had answers, but… He didn’t know. He didn’t actually know. He had no proof of anything he had been thinking about. He was one of many fallen humans that had only fallen when he thought about something he didn’t actually have any proof about. He laid and gazed desperately at the stars. Perhaps their unending wisdom, how their light had watched over the universes for millenia, perhaps they could provide him with answers before he died.

He was gripped with heavy terror, the understanding that he did indeed know nothing. All this time alive and he knew nothing about which he thought. He didn’t have any time left to find out, either. At this moment, he began to pray, gasping, desperate words spilling out his lips to whatever being may be listening, that he might have extra life to find out what he wanted to seek.

As far as he knew, no being answered.

At least then, when his vision turned black and his breath rattled and all the feeling in his body went, he’d find the answers.