At the Brink of Eternity: A Silent Conversation

*Trigger Warning* [Suicide & SA] The enigma wherein one retains little recollection of their past self, yet is cognizant of their departure from the physical realm. The initial encounters with unfamiliar souls, the anticipation of the unknown, and the accompanying emotions — all of these elements have deep personal significance. Having lost my father while navigating the complexities of my personal life, placed a significant strain on my mental well-being, which I’ve struggled to openly acknowledge. Fueled by these contemplations and my own mental health journey, I composed this short story, pondering- perhaps even expecting or desiring, what our eventual reunion in the afterlife might entail had I walked a different path. My intention in sharing this story is to spread awareness among individuals grappling with thoughts of self-harm, to let them know they are not alone and that there are ways to seek help and support.

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In a realm where the fabric of existence had dissolved, two souls stood side by side. They faced an expanse of eternity, and one of them dared to break the profound silence that enveloped them.

With a gentle and inquisitive tone, the boy asked, "How did you leave this world?"

He replied with a touch of melancholy in his voice, "It was cancer that claimed my life. I was just 57 years old."

The boy nodded, a flicker of recognition in his eyes, and said, "That's how my dad passed away too. He was around your age."

As they conversed, the man couldn't help but notice the incongruity between the youthfulness of the boy’s appearance and the profound sorrow in his eyes. He posed another question, his voice filled with compassion. "You seem so young, champ. How did you find your way here?"

The boy hesitated momentarily, the weight of his past evident in his gaze, before sharing. "I don't wish to dwell on the details, but I was only 20 when I left."

Respecting his boundaries, the man shifted the conversation, asking a different question. "Can you recall how old you were when your pops passed away?"

"I was still young, 16 years old," the boy responded, his voice tinged with the uncertainty of a young heart. "I struggled to fully grasp the concept of his absence. I held onto the hope that he would return."

Empathizing with his experience, the man shared "My son was the same age when I departed. I don't believe he comprehended it entirely either. He only knew that his old man was unwell and in great pain."

A poignant pause filled the space between them, a moment of shared understanding. The man continued, his voice carrying the weight of his choices. "I could have accepted my fate of departing at a young age, but I couldn't bear the thought of subjecting my son to such pain. He still needed his father."

The boy nodded in agreement, acknowledging, "I don't think we ever truly stop needing our fathers."

The man nodded back. The boy revealed a piece of his own story. "It felt like my father was with me when I departed. It made the transition somewhat less frightening."

A fleeting expression of anguish crossed the man’s face, prompting him to offer his condolences, "Oh champ, I'm so sorry."

The boy assured him, "It's alright. Over time, you grow accustomed to people mentioning their fathers. The pain remains, but it lessens with each mention."

Concerned for his well-being, the man asked, "Do you remember him well? You were still young when he passed."

The boy affirmed, "I carried his memory with me every day."

Relief washed over the man’s face, and he began to believe that perhaps he wasn't alone in this place after all. The boy shared a glimpse of his own emotions, "When everything started to blur away into... whatever this is, he was the one I saw. I promise you, I never forgot about him."

Gratitude filled the man’s heart, and he whispered, "Thank you for saying that, champ."

The boy reminisced, "My dad was the only other person who called me that."

"Champ?'" the man inquired, inviting the boy to continue.

He nodded, finding the courage to express what he had kept hidden within, "It was suicide. That's how I ended my life, but I'd rather not delve into the reasons."

Empathy flowed from the man as he responded, "Oh champ, I'm so sorry."

As the man contemplated reaching out to hold the boy’s hand, he decided to pose another question instead, "Were you still in school when it happened?"

"Yes, I was pursuing pre-med. I had dreams of becoming an anesthesiologist," the boy revealed.

The two souls fell into contemplative silence, each pondering their own choices. Eventually, the boy broke the silence once more, "And what path did you walk?"

"I worked for the Virginia Department of Affairs, dedicated to supporting victims of sexual assault," the man answered with determination.

He noticed the boy's gaze shifting away from him, and this time, he was certain. "It's a role where there always seems to be so much more to do," he added.

The boy nodded, acknowledging his statement, reflecting on the depth of the work he had undertaken, "I can only imagine. Some callings are boundless in their need."

After a moment's pause, the boy inquired, "Did you encounter many males? I had a friend who was consistently guarded with most people, but remarkably open with me.”

The man nodded, affirming, "I did, many of them. I'm deeply sorry to hear about your friend, but I'm glad he felt safe enough to confide in you. No one should bear such pain alone."

The boy’s gaze lingered away from him once again, and this time, he was sure of it.

"You truly sound like a remarkable person," the boy said.

Modesty colored the man’s response, "I'm not so sure about that. I simply did the best I could."

The boy persisted, offering his perspective, "I think you were."

After a moment of contemplation, the boy summoned the strength to ask, "Can I share with you why I chose to leave this world?"

The man reassured him, "You don't have to."

The boy replied, "I believe it's something I'm meant to do."

"Meant to?" Recognition washed over the man. "Champ, did someone hurt you?"

The boy began to feel a hand tightening around his mouth, but the gentle eyes of the soul beside him encouraged the release of words long held captive.

"I was just nine," the boy finally confessed.

The man’s heart ached as he uttered softly, "Oh, champ."

"I never confided in anyone, and eventually, I couldn't bear to be alone with it any longer. I always felt like I should have been strong enough to stop it. I mean, look at me. I'm a big guy, you know?"

The man’s comforting words flowed forth, "Buddy, it was not your fault."

The boy believed him, and he confided, "I didn't believe anyone would trust me because of it either."

Fierce determination filled the man’s voice as he affirmed, "I believe you."

As the boy thought of a time and place where those words could have come sooner, he continued, "I think that's why you're here with me."

Two souls began to feel complete, and the man softly uttered, "And your father passed away from cancer."

"We are what was missing," the boy affirmed.

"We represent closure," the man agreed with a nod.

The boy wondered if there were ever places where closure wasn't found at the end. "I truly wish I had known you. Perhaps things would have turned out differently."

"Likewise. Knowing you would have made the end less daunting," the man admitted.

"Now that we are here, it doesn't feel as frightening. I almost feel liberated," the man confessed.

"Me too," the boy echoed.

In the profound stillness surrounding them, they began to feel everything.

"Do you sense warmth?" the boy asked, noticing a change in their surroundings.

"Yes, I feel it all around. I think it's time for whatever comes next," the man said with hope in his voice.

"But what if it's nothing?" the boy voiced his fear.

"Then I'm content that we weren't alone," the man assured him, his fear absent.

The boy’s voice no longer carried fear either: "So am I."

They were on the cusp of wholeness.

In this fragile moment, only one piece was missing to make them both feel whole again.

“I don’t think we ever said our names,” the man said, breaking the silence that hung between them.

He offered a small smile through his tears. “I’m Keith.”

He took a deep breath, his voice trembling as he spoke, “I’m Tyler.”

Their hands found each other, fingers intertwining as if searching for solace in the touch of another.

“Can I hold your hand, Keith?” Tyler asked, with vulnerability in his eyes.

“Of course, Tyler. For as long as we need to,” he replied, squeezing his hand gently.

The two souls held each other, finding warmth in each other’s presence. It was a warmth they had yearned for, a connection that transcended the void.

As their souls merged, the emptiness that had surrounded them faded away, replaced by a profound sense of belonging and peace.

But time was fleeting in this ethereal realm, and soon, they were gone, leaving behind an empty space where two souls had once become whole.

The void remained silent until a new presence emerged, and a curious voice broke the silence.

“How did you leave this world?”

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