When I opened my eyes, I thought I was swimming. 

In a black pool, though. 

I also couldn't see anything nor hear anything, but there was that familiar sensation of floating. 

Was I dead?

There was literally nothing to describe what was in front of me. There was no colour but blackness. I was somewhere though and that knowledge gave me confidence. I had no idea where this was, most likely the afterlife, but I hadn't thought it'd be like this. 

Once, years and years ago, before the Great War, people thought there were a Heaven and Hell. This was probably it. Nowadays, there was no more religion, everyone had turned to science and things that had evidence to prove their existence when the Great War started. 

They had to. 

I sighed and looked around. It was truly nothing. 

So was it me? Was I the one who was different?

I tried moving my limbs but I felt that same light sensation going through my body. I could see nothing though. It was interesting to move about but eventually, I tired of it. 

I felt exhausted. 

No, dead. 

I sighed, but the action felt different from the usual sighing. 

Everything felt different. 

What was I to do? Float here forever? Was this what happened? 

I tried talking afterwards, murmuring senseless words. I couldn't hear myself though. The action itself was soothing though and soon I started threading together movements of my lips, trying to imagine what I would sound like if I could actually make noise. 

Soon, I lost myself in the abyss of time and it seemed almost soothing. 

To leave all your troubles behind, everything. But, the scariest thing was that I started to forget. 

It started randomly. I was doing the same thing, lying with my eyes closed and suddenly it left me. 

What was I doing here again? 

I could feel the answer, right out of reach but my brain felt fuzzy like right when you awoke. I snapped out of my reverie. Tiredness. What did that even feel like?

A wave of panic rose inside me. What was even my name? I could feel myself growing more and more panicked. Was this it? Was nothing going to happen? Was I to stay here forever, knowing nothing, slowly forgetting all I knew? 

And then eventually, forgetting that I had forgotten?

I couldn't accept this. I couldn't.

When I woke up or at least managed to register what was happening, I felt nothing. I stared up at the sky as I lay in the darkness. I was slowly forgetting. 

My face was stained with tears and my eyes were sore. 

At least I could cry. I smiled to myself but soon I found myself wondering why I was even crying. 

This had happened to me before, I recalled, something had happened, but before I could hold on to the memory, it was gone. 

And as every memory disappeared, the place I was in grew a little brighter. Eventually, I could make out parts of my body even though the rest of everything remained dark. 

I raised up a hand. 

In my memories, it was dirty and scratched, yet I could not remember why. I tried to picture other parts of my body but I could only recall my hands and my hair. I knew my hair was like a light yellow, almost white. I tried again, letting the image stay with me. But like the others, it eventually disappeared. 

A bubble of laughter rose inside me and I doubled over, exploding in mad fits of giggles. How funny. 

Soon I would even forget that I had forgotten everything and I would be reduced to a soulless thing, eternally slumbering, knowing nothing and seeing nothing. I went through my remaining memories, distinct images or a bright colour but eventually, that seemed pointless. I would forget all of this anyway. 

Why even bother to try?

I sighed and turned onto my side, closing my eyes, the last image of the colour white staying with me until I fell asleep... 

 ******

I slept like the dead, little things slowly disappearing, but yet that image of white and yellow stayed with me. 

It was a little ray of light in the darkness of my mind. 

Eventually, as more time passed, I could feel parts of myself fading away. 

I was dying. 

I would fall into a sort of lapse, where I would forget everything but that image of light. And then remember it again. 

Knowing that death was coming for me was terrible to think about, yet as time passed, I found myself looking forward to the end. The end of my suffering. 

But that image, that white, kept me alive. Kept that kindle of hope sparked. But I knew it wouldn't hold for much longer. 

And then the tears came again. That tingle and familiar burning behind my eyes. Flashes of anger. Fury, desperation, I felt it all in my last moments as I felt my consciousness fade. 

If only... I thought to myself, my last tears slipping down my face. 

If only...

"So you would wish for another chance?" A small voice whispered to me as the final blackness, and I knew it was final somehow, covered my senses. 

I released a breath. The last sigh and I murmured softly, "I would."