Inside the flow

Inside the Flow

My eyes open, slowly taking in the darkness that is surrounding me, swallowing me. I raise my hand to my eyes, attempting to wipe away the grime and the grit that has collected there.
“How did I get here?” I think to myself in the silence.
All I can hear is a sound similar to that of rushing water. It never ceases, never stops. Eventually, I realise the answer won’t come to me just sitting here. The darkness is complete, as is the silence, bar that never-ending sound. I slowly raise myself off the ground, bones grinding inside, protesting at the movement.
“Why does it hurt?” I wonder again, “What happened to me?”
As I stand, the ground beneath me begins to glow a luminescent white, and it steadily spreads ahead. It forms a path of sorts, but one of glowing light. It’s rectangular, and solid-looking. I take a step forward, testing my weight against it. It doesn’t collapse, so I begin to move forwards at a slow pace, looking wearily around. It’s useless in the darkness, I can only see the path, and barely my own hand two foot away from my face.
That never-ceasing sound, it’s still there, and I get the feeling it always will be; Always has been. I don’t understand how it always could’ve been, since I’ve never heard it before. The feeling is still there, and irrefutable.
The light from the path is beginning to spread upwards. Around and behind, I appear to be walking into a white tunnel. Glancing down, I can see my jeans are ripped at the knees, and blood is trickling down my left leg. It hurts now I can see it, and I wish I couldn’t. My hands are scraped and bruised, and my arms are grazed, although they appear to function properly.
“Guess that explains why It hurt to move my legs...” I thought wearily
Still, there’s no explanation as to where I am exactly, or how I ended up here. I continue walking down the path of light, although it’s steadily becoming more tunnel-like. My footsteps are barely audible now, the never-ceasing sound of flowing water still making it difficult to hear. It would appear I’m walking on a solid surface now, some kind of polished stone, glowing white.
The experience is truly surreal; A tunnel of white marble glowing so brightly underneath a river of some sort? It seemed highly unlikely. There was a dark spot at the end of the tunnel by now; I think it’s coming to an end. As the spot grows larger, I reckon I can see a shape moving near-by to it. Maybe it was a person, capable of giving intelligent answers to my predicament. I hoped so, as my damaged legs are tiring.
Indeed, there is a person at the end of this tunnel. They glance up as I approach, but even a glance, that look will be fixed with me forever. It was a look filled with eternal sorrow, sympathy and pity. It was the look seen in the eyes of the grieving, mourning the dead.
“I am the gatekeeper” The figure whispered “ I’m so sorry”
“For what?” I ask, dreading the answer I already knew
“My friend, can you truly not tell?” The voice inquires, kindly “Maybe you should see your reflection”
The figure clicks his fingers, and a pane of reflective glass appears on the wall. I fear what I will see, but cannot prevent my eyes dragging themselves over, to see, to know, to confirm.
What I see is horrifying, my mop of blond hair is now stained red, blood still running from the hole in my head. My eyes appear undamaged, although the right side is heavily bruised and the cheekbone appears to be collapsed.
“I-I’m dead” I gasp “Aren’t I?” A tear makes it’s way painfully to my eye, and beings to roll down my face.
I turned to gaze at the sorrowful figure.
“That’s your choice my friend” He said cryptically “Whether you live or die is entirely up to you”
With that, the figure simply vanished, to reveal a golden door behind him. I slowly walk forward, and grip the handle.
I know what I must do, know how to survive or pass on. I understand how it depends on me.
I open the door, and take a step forward.