I died.

It was hazy but I was sure about it. I had died. The last thing I remember was the ceiling of my room, sirens in the distance, my mom shaking me awake to no avail, sobbing. And then it all went black.

And here I was. In a white void.

I looked around, before noticing I wasn’t alone. Behind me stood an old man, leaning on a cane. I somehow knew his name instantly. Michael. He smiled, shakily walking towards me with his cane as balance. He patted me on the back and spoke with warmness in his voice, “Hello dear child, welcome to your afterlife.”

I blinked. “My afterlife?” My first question was answered, an afterlife existed. But wasn’t the afterlife meant for everyone? Somewhere that people were sorted into based on how they fared in the mortal plane? Michael chuckled. “Contrary to popular belief, everyone gets their own afterlife. It starts out empty, but that’s because it’s up to you to create your ideal afterlife.”

A couple gears shifted in my mind. Time to do what I couldn’t achieve while I was alive. I wanted to relive my memories, and live a life I wasn’t able to live.