°•*•°Mistakes were made°•*•° 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓾𝓷𝓰

°•*•°Mistakes were made°•*•°

°•*•° part 1 °•*•°

Jisung never had many thoughts about life after death, the whole Hell/Heaven thing never really bothered him, especially because well, he was barely twenty years old.

As a normal college student, he was too busy trying to squeeze three months of notes from his literature class in four days to care about such utopian matters. And this one, that exact literature exam he had studied so hard for, had been legitimately, the cause of his death.

Ironically that day, the day of that damned exam, he had been running like a mad man trying to get to his exam class on time and well, he hadn't done that little thing he was taught to do since being a young child before crossing any street: check the road to see if there were any running cars.

So at the age twenty, just his luck, he was found lifeless on the street across from his campus on a busy Wednesday. The thing was that he wasn't even mad about being dead, it was his fault after all, for not checking the road, especially because the traffic light had been red for pedestrians.

But of course, not only had he passed away at the age of twenty while the last three days of his life were spent studying, he had also been wearing the pair of jeans he hated most, paired with a coffee stained hoodie.

It was true though, that death came in all shapes and forms when less expected, but this was a bit too much, now wasn't it?

Again still not even the worst part was that one.

The oddest of things though, was the fact that he was immersed in complete darkness at the current moment, and that wasn't much of a problem because clearly he knew he was dead already, so it's not like it mattered anyways.

But the feeling he got instead, was very much suffocating him, in a platonic sense since he had stopped breathing already. He sort of got the feeling of being locked up in a cell, maybe a cave?

He couldn't tell, and that was not reassuring at all.

He didn't know why he would even be expecting a warm and comforting feeling when his time would have come, but again, this could be linked to what religious or not believes had been implanted in his brain from a young age. Yet he felt cold, and not comforted at all.

He didn't know how much time it had passed by since he was left in there, he didn't even know how he had gotten there in the first place, but this was all forgotten when he heard noises from the outside. What he could only guess was the outside judging by the fact the noise wasn't exactly in his earshot.
It was completely silent there, otherwise he was sure he would have missed it.

There were footsteps and a clicking sound of keys colliding between themselves and then the door, apparently there was a door too he realized, was cracked open from the outside.

Even if he suddenly felt scared, or well, more than he was already anyways, he still forced himself to look towards the door.

He wasn't exactly sure of what was happening to be honest beside the fact that he was dead or maybe he was still spiraling down into death? This could have been his mind doing tricks on him?

He slowly, in the undefined time spent there, if wherever he was could be even considered a place, had come to realize that he had no clue on how those things worked. But again why would he?

"You are Han Jisung, right? Twenty years old, on his way to college?" The person, (was it even a person?) now standing  in front of him had asked, which was low-key surreal;
a male that looked especially young, wearing nothing but black clothes, mostly covered by a thick looking cloak, was it velvet? Holding in his left hand what looked to be some sort of pen and a, perhaps, antique notebook was asking about his whereabouts.