The ground was quiet.
No judgment, no thunder, just silence—
The kind that feels like a held breath from the universe.
A soft glow opened the space before me,
and there stood Him—God, or something close.
Eyes that didn't stare through me,
but into me. Gently.
"You've passed every trial," He said.
"This is the last."
I turned…
and there it was.
A mirror.
But not just glass.
It shimmered like truth,
and I saw myself—not the now-me.
But every version of me I tried to forget.
The kid who wished he was louder.
The teen who felt like a burden.
The boy who couldn't save every friend,
or say the right thing, or be "enough" when it mattered.
And still—he smiled at me.
Not in pride. Not in pity.
Just… in peace.
I choked a little.
Because somehow, I knew—
He wasn't asking for forgiveness.
He was giving it.
---------