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In the End, everything was serene. The grass feels like cotton when I step on them, not a single itch could be felt in my body. Well, I didn’t- or, rather, couldn’t feel anything. Perhaps peaceful would describe what I am feeling, but wouldn’t that disregard the whole point of not feeling anything? Maybe numb is a good alternative, but I could still feel the wind that blows gently on my skin, the goosebumps that litter all over my body, and the gentle touches of the ground, supporting my every step.

In the End, the water was always clear. The whole world reflects to me and it doesn’t care, it reflects what is already there and doesn’t nit-pick on any apparent imperfections. Everything is in a state of tranquility, just like all Ends should be. Peaceful, unbothered, impeccable.

Me? I feel empty. As empty as a clear sky with no trace of clouds. But also, free. Like wind driven clouds. I feel like I have lost all my senses. No hunger, no tiredness, nothing. Just me, my thoughts, and the sky.

As the sun emerges from behind the buildings and shines brightly into my welcoming eyes, it diffracts into the rippling water, creating a beautiful gradation on the surface. As I stare into the water, I am puzzled by the person staring back at me. They have a glass shard sticking out of their left cheek, and one of their pupils is busted, along with some purple spots around their neck and face. Yet, I do not feel a thing.

The ground that stood underneath me suddenly shakes, and I grasp onto the grass for support. The ground beneath me grows taller, separating me from the person I had just been staring at. They are now miles beneath me, and I could barely see them, over the steep edges of the cliff that had formed. They smiled up at me, and then I knew what I should do. I jumped.

“Hey, wake up,” a baritone voice says. I could feel their breath on my face and their hands nudging me around. I slowly open an eye, blinking feverishly when the light hits my eye. I put my wrist over my eyes to block the light. I put my hand against the ground and hoisted myself upright. My hands reached up to my face and rubbed it. No trace of glass shard in my cheek.

“Where am I?” I asked, my words slurred like I just drank a gallon of alcohol. “The Theatre,” the person replied. But that doesn’t answer my question. Recognizing the confusion in my expression, he went on, “The Theatre. Come on, show’s about to start.” It was then I noticed who was standing beside me. He had to be over 6 feet tall, with his black unruly afro, dark eyes and thick eyebrows staring at me expectantly.

“You look familiar,” I started, “Do I know you?” He seems to find my words amusing as he laughed. “I don’t think so. But I know you. Sana Baako, right? I’m Damien Glover.” I decided not to question his knowledge of me. This world is full of possibilities. Damien gestured for me to follow him into “The Theatre” and I jogged to follow his pace. I have nothing to lose in this world. I think following a complete (but familiar) stranger is alright.

“I’m your past self,” he started as we sat down on The Theatre’s seats, “all of us are, actually. We’re about to watch the next reincarnation.” I looked around the theatre. There were many people around, all focused on the screen up front. They were varied in gender, style and age. They all looked oddly familiar to me. My heart starts to beat faster, and I can hear a ringing noise in my ears. “Aye, calm down. You’re good,” he said, trying to ease my tension.

I took a deep breath and nibbled on my top lip. “Sorry about your car crash, by the way, got everyone here emotional,” he said. I do not know what he means.

The screen in front of Damien and I suddenly lit up, and it felt like we are living somebody else’s life. I witnessed their growth from an infant into a teenager, and I related to them. Those scenes, it felt like I had experienced them before. I began to see their life cycle as my own, and suddenly I feel like I’m witnessing my own childhood. I am living this young girl’s teenage years, and I saw her criticize herself heavily and despise her childhood. I watched her die in vain, without forgiving her mistakes. Then I realized, why the cycle of incarnation kept on continuing, why none of us were satisfied with our own lives. I realized.

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Comments (4)
  • saintkei

    @Zqhr AW TY BABES

  • Zqhr

    I love the words you use and this so good wowakajs THIS NEEDS MORE RECOGNITION PLEASE KEEP WRITTING I REALLY LOVE IT

  • saintkei

    @zephamarceila ❤️🤧

  • saintkei

    @JaniceArt i love u sis

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