Max

"Will there really be nothing after death? God's judgment? Angels singing? And only eternal darkness..." you thought, sensing that something terrible was about to happen. This feeling of unease was nagging at you.

"Hey, what's wrong, dragonfly?" came the familiar voice of your best friend, Max. You've been friends since childhood and now share a room. He nicknamed you "dragonfly" when you were five years old for your energy. You're both twenty, and you've maintained your friendship despite all the obstacles. You study during the day and ride bikes in the evenings.

Today was an ordinary day, Friday, seven o'clock in the evening, but you were overcome with anxiety. Your heart was telling you to stay home, but you chalked it up to fatigue.

"Are you okay? You're not yourself," Max asked, placing his hand on your shoulder. His eyes were worried.

“Yes, everything’s fine, I just didn’t get enough sleep,” you answered, trying to look calm, although your eyes betrayed your anxiety.

“You know you can tell me everything,” he said softly, hugging you.

“Everything’s fine, don’t worry,” you continued to reassure him.

"Okay, I won't bother you. Ready?" he asked, handing you the helmet.

You sat on the motorcycle, gripping the handlebars tightly, but your thoughts were elsewhere. You were so lost in thought that you didn't notice how you'd veered into oncoming traffic. Suddenly, the bright headlights blinded you. You came to your senses at that moment, but it was too late...

All you remember is the impact, Max's scream, and the ambulance sirens. Your body was aching, your leg was broken, and blood was pouring from your mouth. The paramedics arrived quickly, but your pulse had stopped.

Your soul left your body and saw it lifeless. Why do you see yourself from the other side? Why are you floating in the air? Looking at your hands, you realized the bitter truth: you're dead.