𝖬𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖱𝖾:𝖯𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗍 | 𝖢𝗁𝗈𝗂 𝖡𝖾𝗈𝗆𝗀𝗒𝗎

08 : 𝖨𝗌 𝖨𝗍 𝖤𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁?

[🌙]

[Y/N's POV]

47 days.

An anxious sigh escaped from my dry lips. I was in Beomgyu's balcony, trying to get my mind off random things. I have been staring at the timer on my wrist. It's been 2 weeks passed.

"Am I doing good?" I asked the heavens. "Do you see me trying? I really don't know what my next plan is."

Nothing pitched back to me. I wished God could just speak, even just a word or two in my mind. I badly needed a guide. I didn't think I was doing my job right.

"God," I leaned towards the railings. "Come on, please, talk to me. What am I supposed to do?"

Do I just keep going until Beomgyu realizes that he's worthy of living? Is that just how it goes? Because I don't think two months would be enough to heal someone who's been broken inside. I didn't intend to say that I didn't see any progress— of course, there were. However, if he snaps back into the dark reality after I leave, who's going to help him?

"Is it enough?" I asked once again.

I only heard the buzzing sounds from the city ahead. I admire how the lights casted a hazy glow amongst the dark silhouettes of the buildings. I could see cars dashing by, their headlights flooding the highway. Rays of orange illuminated from the array of lampposts. Almost all the stores were already closed. It was 11 PM.

"If I somehow make it to heaven, will I see my loved ones there? Don't I get to visit earth as an angel or spirit anymore?"

I rested my chin to my palm. I thought about my pets, my deceased relatives, and parted friends. I wonder whom amongst them were in paradise. Did anyone ever get tossed to hell?

"What if I come face to face with a demon instead?" I muttered, shivering. "Who knows what lifetime of suffering awaits for me in that place."

I admit, I wasn't much of a religious person growing up. I've lost interest long ago; considering that most God-fearing people that I've met were either judgemental or fakes. I reasoned, if criticizing other people's business because you were trying to help them to get to heaven was the standard of being clean and saved, then I didn't want to become one.

"Heaven and hell, there's one thing in between." I murmured. "Purgatory. What if this is purgatory? God tests me one more time to see which realm fits me best."

My hands found their way into rubbing my face in distress. I've been thinking the same thing over and over. As much as I wanted to make the most of my time here, I'd always find myself getting consumed by pessimism.