Buried Yet Breathing3.

There were vivid memories, or faded dreams, of the girl. In this place, though cold and unwelcoming, warm recollections washed over him, as though for the first time ever. Who was she? He fought with furthering this stream of thought as it would make him weak. Of all places for him to experience tender emotion, this was not it. The urge to escape was all too prevalent.

And so he dwelt on these amiable memories. His earthly brain had buried much so accessing this distant feed was indeed taxing. Her beauty was in front of him; he could almost touch her unblemished face in his blemished memory. An angel… earthly, yes. But was she truly a God send, even though the memory ran short. There was no finality to her presence. Her disappearance was unexplained and in the recesses of his post-mortal life, what became of her was a mystery.

From where he came, of whom he once was and where he was now… there were no pieces to put together. A strong sense of yearning and the ever clear knowledge that he had, in fact, perished was all that rang true in his apparitions psyche.

This couldn’t be heaven. Was it hell? The latter shouldn’t be true either because as fragmented as his memories were, hell was a terrifying place with fire, darkness and separation from anything good. He hadn’t seen fire here yet, so quite possibly he was in the abyss. Darkness loomed and no one was there to save him; that was for sure. This was most definitely the afterlife. But he was so alone. Or was he?

Now and again, a vibrating murmur could be noted, coming from all sides. Each direction spewed forth a violent mumble. A language unknown yet it was verbal, it had to have been. The confusion lie in that he saw no other presence so he was tricked into thinking it was something else. Anything else. A storm in the distance maybe. The topography settling. Stars colliding with wherever this was. The murky shades of grey were darker than the blackest night.

Timid to respond, though maybe for the best. What came out of his mouth sounded like gibberish. The language he once spoke in the previous life did not work for him here. He yelled at the top of what would have been his earthly lungs, and more nonsensicality spewed forth. The defeat of everything weighed on him heavily. The ability to speak had now been removed on top of all.

Blasts of wind caressed him and the murmurs got louder. It was as though heavy wings brushed his canvas, and the once silenced voices begged to be heard. Quiet groans, screaming whispers and a variety of tones of voices was becoming more and more audible. He spun around, searching the grey for visions of people… other apparations… anything tangible and to provide answers. Something was trying to communicate with him and it was happening all at once.

Audible reminders of his life became noticeable through the nonsense. Voices of the past maybe?

The intensity of this onslaught of muffled voices barking for his attention took over. He closed his eyes and tried to cover his ears, nor could he respond in the same fashion. He felt a cold, searing breeze and then there was a pull, stretching him and spinning him. A vivid, blue light encircled him, setting him on fire with a deep blue glow. He bolted skyward, propelled forward into oblivion.

Hurtling through the cosmos, he remained in a frozen state, unable to move if he wanted to. The pressure was great. His breath left him. If he had a heart, it stopped. Blacking out was the only option.

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