Dying

20●● July XX

In an apartment room:

"I feel like shit...probs the rona...and whatever else disease I got from an unhealthy lifestyle of video games, anime, and junk food."

A sitting sickly figure states. Looking as if he'll collapse at any given moment. He looks...Unsure?

"I don't know how to feel...should I show fear?...An unwillingness to see the afterlife or next life?"

The figure sighs.

'...I do know one thing though...I do NOT want a family in my next life...better to be an orphan than leaving it to a 50/50 chance of getting a good or bad family. Only God knows how I loathed this lifes one. I hated my father...he never bothered to listen to what I had to say. My first sister is a stoner and my second is a flat out b!tch. First brother is a unlikable brat, the second is an unlikable gay brat, and third is just as an unlikable brat as the first if not more so.'

The figure shakily stands only to feel a mild stabbing pain in the lower back.

"...F@cking backaches."

'I found comfort in these unhealthy things I did. It was stress relievers that made me happy...Case of point? The real world sucks.'

He heads to a door, opening it, heading in, and turning on the light.

The Bathroom:

The figures features can now be made out thanks to the light...and the mirror. He appears to be a tired looking middle aged man with a full head of black...and white hair going towards the sides of his head...curly yet silky. A strong looking face with stubble neatly forming a goatee. He'd be considered handsome for his age if it wasn't for his sickly complexion.

'That is how I dealt with the world around me. Shitty grades yet a want to improve. The want of betterment yet the will of a f@cking weakling loser. Slow minded to boot. The only thing I was good at was sports yet that fell through due to grades. Didn't help that the self imposed pressure plus that of expectations were weighing on me heavily. Got white hair at the age of 16. Dear old dad didn't notice.'

His facial expression and his thoughts are completely parallel to each other as he...has a smile on his face. His sad thoughts not showing on his face as if accepting all that was thrown at him during his life were nothing, but thoughts of negativity.

He scratches the back of his head as if saying "Well, what are you gonna do?"

'I have already accepted all that was thrown at me. Got two low paying jobs, a crappy apartment that I'm sure is infested with roaches, food in my belly, taxes and rent being paid from my wallet, and turns out, juuuuuust enough cash to enjoy my hobbies. Can't say life was too cruel or too merciful...juuuuuust right. That perfect middle line between comfort and poverty. Though, if I was reborn I'd do what I was good at, using my physical body in sports and use that to attain a better quality of life. Oh! Hello blackout.'

Just as he thought that his body fell as if his strings were cut. His head hitting the faucet and then the ground. Blood seeping from his surprisingly shallow wound. Its his internal situation that killed him.

From his body...is what a soul of a weak creature is assumed to look like. A blob of white with a circular body and a wriggling...antennae? Done up tail?

This...soul then floats into an open passage in space, and then floated into the Samsara Wheel. Where his fate lies is unknown.