I see it, but I refuse to believe. I don't want to believe him.
I want to wake up. Please, just let me wake up.
My brain begins to throb, and a suffocating tightness grips my chest. I can't breathe.
Yet, he hasn't touched me. His stillness is what finally forces me to admit it: he won't hurt me.
There is a strange, terrifying safety in being this close to him.
He can't be evil.
He watches me, his gaze unyielding. After a long silence, he offers me a choice—or perhaps, a consequence. To return to the waking world, I must relive every single moment of my life again, from the very beginning.
I hesitate, paralyzed. I know the life I've lived. Not a single bone in my body is willing to endure those moments a second time.
"Choose," he says, his voice echoing as if from a great distance.
"Every light you see here is your own memory,"
"You don't have to worry. Pick one and return to where you belong."
His voice softens.
"I will be with you this time".
"Choose."
How can I possibly choose? Everything laid out before me is a memory I never want to live again.
Are you a god?"
My voice trembling with fear.
He didn't answer at first. The silence stretched between them until, after a long pause, he finally spoke.
"I can be whatever you need me to be," he said softly.
"If you believe I am a god, then I am a god for you."
"What are you, really?"
"You already know what I am."
His answer was maddeningly cryptic, yet he didn't seem to be lying. His expression remained unreadable, draped in a sincerity that was as confusing as his words.I took a shaky breath, my decision hardening.
"I will choose."