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The sun burned my eye, but yet I couldn't look away. It was so peaceful, so beautiful, so pure. And for some reason, I felt connected to it. It was early in the day, and I just parked my car by a pond to take a breather. I am an artist, taking refuge and inspiration from nature around me. Nature is such an amazing thing, the waves of water, the smell of rain, the sound of crickets, and the heat of fire. Everything was so poetic, and yet simple in the grand scheme of the universe. I am never philosophical or fanciful, I am a realist. I am my own realist, I live my own reality. I don't have dreams. I don't need dreams. I just needed life and myself. Yet, not that long ago, I realized I wasn't living a normal life. I wasn't living life. I was living death. People believe so many different things about what is after death. Whether there are other worlds, ghosts, spirits, feelings, nothing... but in my universe, we have a place, a magical place, bigger than any world. Many call it the "hereafter", or "Next-World", or "Nexternity". I'm among many who have died and been reincarnated in this world. Nexternity isn't too far away from Earth, it's an alternate version of it if you will. Everyone goes about their days, like life was before. It's all fine. Everyone says that. Honestly I don't know why I'm telling you this, it's not like I know you, it's not like you exist... but why don't you take a drive with me, I'll show you around.
I stood up from the worn down bench, glanced one more time at the sunlight, and then got into my car. The car smoothly started with a mechanical whoosh and then I left the quiet, soothing place I loved so much. The sun-drowned pond. I turned a corner and ended up in the town I lived in, Seraphix rd. Seraphix was a very busy town, with a good deal of churches, gardens, and parks filled with many people. And the one main thing that differentiates the afterlife Earth from "inlife" Earth is the people. The first thing you notice is that you aren't a human anymore. Well, not really. Your physical reincarnated body is depicted as your core soul. Your personality, occupation, life, and the way you died, all play a part in what you look like. I looked across the street and I saw a few people. Some had their necks detached, and a beautiful crown, book, or bouquet of flowers floats above in place of their head, no one knew how they can see or feel or hear or think with an object as a top, but somehow it happened, and that seems to be the motto of this world:
"Somehow it happened."
But not everyone has an object for a head, some people were reincarnated as animals, creatures, guardians, or even balls of light. Even with these differences, everyone can communicate with each other, despite the language they spoke on Earth. Everyone feels united, or at least they like to think so. We think we're all so perfect in the afterlife, we don't have to think about what we've done on Earth. Most say this is like a sequel to their life but I just think it's a chapter. I'm not bleak, I just know that everything is connected, no matter how hard we try to forget. But I guess I don't need to forget.
I ride down the street and finally get into the parking lot of my apartment. I locked my car, and I took my keys out of my pocket, jiggling in my hand almost making a melody. I lived at door number 117, next to many different neighbors. Some were animals, some were kind multi-horned monsters, some were abstract shapes, but today while heading out the elevator I heard the chatter of two of the most prying neighbors in the complex. Their names were Erodius and Euclid. They would always ask a lot of questions about everyone, and I was never sure how to answer. Inquisitorial things they were, but then again, one of them had a magnifying glass as a head and the other was a microscope, two of the most nosiest objects on Earth. The couple just got back from their work, and of course they were feeling talkative. Great.
"Ah hello, ma'am!" Euclid exclaimed. "Wonderful day we're having, hm? We just got back from water skiing-"
"NO, we got back from work." Erodius butted in. "Yeah!"
Of course, work was never really work. They lied just to make themselves look industrious, when really they were taking vacations all over the world.
"Oh.. alright." I murmured, a little annoyed, trying to find the right key to get into my door. They never fooled anyone.
Euclid shifted his stance curiously and looked at my face.
"So... we've been chatting for some months now, roight? So, spit it out then, how did you die?" He eyed me up and down with his curious lenses. I could see he didn't mean to be rude, but it made a bit of anger rise up inside of me.
Erodius nudged Euclid hard in the shoulder to make him shut up. In this world it was perfectly normal to share your past world experiences. A rite of passage almost.
"...Um.. I-I know. Well.." I stuttered. It was a hard answer. A really hard answer.
"It's okay, you don't have to tell us-" Erodius insisted.
"I don't remember how I died." I said with my eye wide, staring into them like I was waiting to be thrown in jail.
Erodius's expression went through a lot of emotions hearing this. First it was shocked, then it was solemn, then he shifted his eyes quickly to his partner and then back at me. Then both of their faces were pitiful. Even if they didn't have a face, you could somehow feel this energy.
"Uh, oh... I um.. I'm sorry..."
Euclid then uncomfortably fidgeted with his fingers and he looked back at his door. "I.. Well, we have to go now. Heh. We'll see you around. W-we're throwing a party tomorrow. If you'd like to come, it's public! Um, bye-bye!" He left with a nervous laugh and then they shut the door.
"Bye." I mumbled. My keys jingled again in that same melody, but it felt more morose this time. My home was a nice, cozy place. It was decorated with dark blue curtains that made the sun shine purple throughout the whole condo. Paintings I've made through the years adorn my walls. Each painting was my interpretation of my special waking moments I've had in my time being dead. A painting of the bench by the sun-drowned pond. A painting of orange trees, dancing in the wind like flames. A painting of graceful clouds swirling in the dusk sky. Many of my paintings had a feeling of despair though, beautiful despair; a feeling of longing perhaps. I never meant to paint it this way, but it just came, and I accepted it. I had a lot of blankets around my home because they comforted me and for some reason, I was always cold. My condo eternally had a cool feeling, like it was drenched in moonlight. I ambled to my bedroom which had a small light blue twin-sized bed decorated with soft and fluffy pillows. A few drawers and posters, and of course a desk that provides me room to paint and write and what have you. I turned towards my bathroom and stepped inside. There were cracks in the wall that looked like different pictures, one looked like a flower and one looked like a mountain. No one I've shown the house to has thought the same though. I listened to the dripping of the sink and then I looked into the mirror. Now, you might have been wondering what I look like and who I am...
My head is a giant eye. One yellow eye with 4 eyelashes on the top and 4 eyelashes on the bottom, always staring at everyone. My dark black pupil is the shape of the letter "x" and that always unsettles people. So.. that's what I named myself: Exe.
I am Exe, and I do not remember who I was before.
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