God Is Dead
The icy pavement warmed beneath a spreading pool of crimson blood. Shocked murmurs rippled through the crowd as the driver staggered from the wrecked car, swaying on his feet. God is dead. Those were the first words that surfaced in her fading mind—the famous declaration of a philosopher.
The driver’s face was flushed scarlet. He shook her roughly, checking for signs of life with none of the care such a moment deserved. Blood already stained his hands; he must have pressed against her wounds, yet she felt no pain.
Despite the biting cold, onlookers soon appeared, smartphones raised to capture the scene. She wanted to blink against the sudden camera flashes, but her eyelids refused to move. Everything before her unfolded in languid slow motion while her mind, acting on its own, dragged forth memories she had no wish to revisit.
A life flashing before one’s eyes.
Parents who had fallen into a cult, squandered everything, and fled the world. School days endured on scraps of attention and leftover pride. The years spent grinding herself to exhaustion just to graduate and repay her loans. The romance she had believed was the springtime of her life revealed as nothing but a scam. Large and small misfortunes whipped past in rapid succession.
This is too much.
Among the endless parade of unhappy memories, the truly joyful ones barely filled a thimble. She couldn’t decide whether her life had simply contained that few happy moments, or whether the painful ones had burned themselves too deeply into her mind to leave room for anything else.
I really did try my best…
When the brief review of her life ended, the first emotion that rose was regret. She had never given up, no matter how heavy the hardships. The worse things became, the harder she pushed her body, always reaching for something better. Yet now that same life was flickering out because of a senseless accident, and the waste of it stung.
Next came anger—anger with no clear target. Her parents. Her relatives. The girlfriend who had betrayed her. The drunk driver standing right there. They couldn’t pave a smooth road for her, fine, but the world had never once left her in peace. Instead it seemed to seize every chance to block her way.
No matter how many trials and adversities come, if you overcome them there will be a reward.
The words her parents had repeated like a mantra before abandoning her. As a child she had never been able to contradict her mother’s earnest voice when those hands held hers so tightly. In that sense, the very first thought she had upon collapsing was also her answer to the parents waiting somewhere in the sky. In her current state, her voice would surely reach them. If they could see her now, even they would have nothing left to say.
Amid the crowd’s murmuring, a loud voice demanded people make way. Paramedics and police pushed through the throng. An officer approached the driver, who still clung to his car in a daze. As she watched the man refuse a breathalyzer, a paramedic’s voice called her name.
At least, she thought it did. She wanted to meet the rescuer’s eyes, but even her pupils had grown too heavy to move. The end was close; she was certain of it.
Right. If I’m going, I should at least say what I need to say.
Clinging to the last sparks of consciousness, she shaped an image. She pictured God—the being who watched the world with impartial eyes and cared for humanity. Unlike the common depictions, this God took the form of a woman, though that detail hardly mattered.
Don’t you think this is too much?
What is?
An answer came. So she really was dying.
I’m asking how any of this is fair.
From her parents—who, cult or not, had sincerely believed and waited for brighter days—to herself, who had lived diligently only to be struck down by a drunk driver. Anger and resentment tangled together as her voice spilled out every hardship in a chaotic flood. The God she had conjured listened quietly, occasionally murmuring I see or That makes sense.
Once the entire story had been told, God met her gaze. She approached slowly and stroked her head with gentle fingers. The touch felt impossibly warm—something she had not experienced in a very long time.
I’m sorry. Even if the pain comes from another world, it does not erase the hurt or the suffering.
That gentle warmth finally loosened her desperate grip on consciousness. It began to slip away.
It may have been a chance meeting, but this too is a thread of fate. Child, I cannot give you anything grand. Still, I can at least spare you from an ending like this.
The hand that had been stroking her hair moved. It settled over her chest, and something flowed out from it—something that danced along the touch before shooting away, vanishing beyond her sight in an instant.
May you walk the path you truly desire.
“Ugh…”
The fact that her entire body throbbed with pain meant she had not died after all. Embarrassment began to creep in as she remembered the dramatic thoughts she’d entertained while believing it was her life flashing before her eyes.
How am I supposed to pay the hospital bills?
Right behind the relief of survival came the dread of an invoice filled with far too many zeros. Yet whether by good fortune or bad, she no longer needed to worry about any of that.
“You’re awake! There’s a survivor here!”
Flames roared all around her. A knight clad in pure white armor stared down at her and shouted.
It was the beginning of a new life.