So, I died today. I know the day started like any other, but I can't remember the rest of the day.
All I know is I died...somehow and I'm wondering what's going to happen next. Am I going to the afterlife or Heaven or something?
Will there even be an afterlife? I feel like maybe this is a test I didn't study enough for and might fail.
I didn't grow up going to church so I've lived my short life agnostic at best. I wouldn't say atheist. I can't be sure there isn't some large bearded man in the sky. There could also be an endless void once we die and life is meaningless.
It's all too much for me so I've just lived the best I could. I'm not perfect. I've "sinned" and not asked for forgiveness. I don't think I'm a bad person though.
I'm a twenty-one year old dude from a small town in Idaho. What do I know? The answer is: pretty much nothing. Young adults like to think they know it all, but really, we're clueless.
Where I grew up the major religions are Mormon and Catholic. There's a few different Christian denominations scattered around town and some Jehovah Witnesses that keep to themselves. Each one wants to tell you how different they are, but most of them are the same.
I was never baptized but I don't feel like I missed anything. I'm a little worried now though. What if I don't get into heaven because of that? That's one of the things most religions agree on.
I can't remember what happened. I have no idea how I died. Was it peaceful? Was it painful? My luck it was probably embarrassing. It will be all over Facebook and the newspaper back home, maybe even the news.
My life hasn't been anything amazing. In fact, it's been exceedingly average. In twenty-one years I haven't done anything exceptional or great. I am just here, gliding through life...well not anymore, I guess.
The only notable thing in my life has been Mia. She was everything to me from the moment I met her.
Mia was my best friend when I didn't have one. She was my confidant and my shoulder to lean on. She was the love of my life and then I let her go. What a dumbass.
I was born in Washington state and lived there until I was ten. My parents are still married and I'm an only child. I was happy in Washington. I had a plethora of friends in my neighborhood and at school and life couldn't have been better.
That was until my dad got a job in some small town no one has ever heard of or even seen on a map in Idaho. Who the hell even lives in Idaho?
I moved to Idaho half way through fifth grade and I had no friends there. Everyone was stuck up and it was a dark time for me. I was angry all the time at everything. Loniless, anger, and puberty don't mix well.
Come sixth grade, I still didnt have any friends but I knew people well enough to know which ones I hated. Boy were there some jack offs in my middle school. I got into a lot of fights in sixth grade.
I thought the rest of my school experience was going to be like this and I dreaded having six more years of that shit.
With shitty kids bullying constantly and the school doing nothing about it, no wonder some kids felt like there was no way out, no light at the end of the tunnel.
I'm a pretty tall dude. I've always been tall for my age and by sixth grade I was already five six. That's six inches taller than the average sixth grader.
That made for a lot of jokes and verbal bullying, but most kids were smart enough not to get into physical altercations with me.
I stood up for the little guys though and one kid, Brock, was brave-or dumb- enough to take a swing at me in response.
It ended badly for Brock and I got suspended even though he started it. At least my parents weren't upset. They were proud of me for standing up for others.
I think my parents felt bad for what I was going through since they decided to move. They gave me a lot or leeway when it came to my bad attitude and general shittiness towards them.
My behavior to them wasn't fair, but to a twelve year old kid whose life was made miserable, what did I care what was fair or not. Mom and Dad certainly didn't think of that when they made me move to Idaho.
I only went to school then straight home for two years. I wasn't involved in any extra curricular activities. I didn't want to deal with people more than I already had to at home.
I stayed in my room from the time I got home till I went to school listening to loud music that my parents hated.
I ate dinner with my parents and I did my chores. I was a miserable kid but I wasn't a brat. I helped around the house even if I was huffy about it.
After moving to Idaho, I changed the way I dressed. I have black hair already so I grew it out past my ears like Bieber before Bieber was a thing.
I wore skinney jeans, mostly black in color with black shirts featuring one band or another. I like the checkered slip on Van's and the seat belt checkered belt. I wore a beanie all the time to complete the emo look.
I wasn't a poser though. I had a skateboard and I would skateboard around town with my headphones in listening to more loud music.
People stayed away from me and at the time I was glad for it. I didn't need friends. I didn't want friends...until Mia.