Lindsey couldn’t remember the pain. The images had been there- the blood, the soundless screaming, the deafening sound of her heart in her ears- but the pain was missing. It all seemed pointless without it.
“Are you ready?” asked a voice from behind her. She wasn’t startled, but curious to see who joined her in the void.
“Whatever is next,” she said, appearing suddenly. Something inside of Lindsey knew she wasn’t quite human. Her movements were too fluid, her features were too perfect. Lindsey recognized it as her own form, without the clumsy gait. Even her wild, curly hair seemed perfectly coiffed, something it never did in reality.
“Are you God?” She laughed, a chorus of bells instead of Lindsey’s awkward guffaws.
“I’ve always hated that moniker.”
“What would you like me to call you?”
“I don’t think anyone’s ever asked me that. But then again, Lindsey, you’ve always been special,” she said. The smile was meant to be reassuring.
“Is my mom here?”
“Can I see her?”
The faux Lindsey made a face as she thought of an answer. Lindsey was never one to be coddled and the answer would need to be concise to satisfy her.
“She’s moved past her humanity. Same as you, same as everyone who comes here.”
“So she doesn’t remember me?”
The deity wasn’t used to the emotional pushback. It had been designed that way to prevent arrest in the process. Lindsey recognized the pause, but it failed to deter her.
“Is this heaven?”
“Heaven is a myth.”
“So where are we?”
“Technically? Just outside your Milky Way galaxy.”
“So we just float here forever?”
“I forget which of you said ‘Energy cannot be created or destroyed’ but he hit it on the head. Think of your soul as energy, powering your flesh. When the flesh is destroyed, that energy become the energy that powers the universe. A part of the whole. Your humanity will fall away, the memories, the happiness, the struggles, the disdain, all become obsolete. There is no more individual and you will be…content.”
Lindsey didn’t expect her mind to still be running a mile a minute. The blissful feelings were there, surrounded by shrouds of human worry. “No, it is not a trick.”
“I hated you. For so long.”
“You have no idea what it was like. Living with a broken heart,” Lindsey said, the hot tears falling from her face.
“The pain ends,” the doppelgänger said, giving Lindsey a small smile and extending her hand. Lindsey chuckled deep before wiping her face.
“God, I hope so.”