Vertigo

There are no stars in the void. 

The darkness stretches out into eternity around them, endless and terrifying and beautiful. They’re not sure if their eyes are closed or open, or if they’re dead or alive. They’re not even sure they remember how they got here, or if they can remember anything at all about their life before. Void fills their mind, intertwining with their memories and thoughts, until all they can comprehend is the vastness of eternity around them.

The void doesn’t want them to remember.

They don’t think they want to remember.


They are aware of three things.

First, their name is Josiah. It hasn’t always been their name, but they’ve gone by it for long enough that most people in their life know them only as Josiah. They find that they can no longer remember the name they had used before, and they don’t really care. They’d left it behind long ago.

Second, they are afraid. More afraid than they’ve ever been in their life. They’d felt fear before, of course. Josiah isn’t afraid of heights, and they never have been, but being high up has always filled them with a choking sense of anxiety; whenever they looked up at the endless sky above them, they’d felt the tendrils of terror wrapping themselves around their heart. No, they’ve never been afraid of heights, but rather the concept of infinity, the knowledge that, in the grand scheme of the vast universe, they were less than a speck of dust, their lifetime less than a short blip in the timeline of eternity. 

And third, they are filled with the most intense sense of awe they’ve ever felt. For never before have they realized just how wonderful and beautiful and perfect eternity is. Nor have they ever realized how beautiful their fear is, how the awe and terror tie themselves together and fill them with some nameless emotion, some emotion that Josiah doesn’t think they’d ever be able to label. It’s like love, but so much stronger and more meaningful and all-consuming than any love they’d ever felt. It envelops their sense of being; Josiah is infinity, and infinity is them. And, at the same time, they are nothing compared to all of the vastness, and that thought fills them with just as much happiness as it does fear. Nothing they could ever do or could ever be will matter to the vastness of eternity, and yet, they are a part of that which is everything. 

They allow their fear to flood through them, no longer fighting against the absolute terror of infinity, and they accept the incomprehensible being that is fear into their meaningless existence. They will not be entirely human after this, that they know for sure, but what they will become is entirely unknown to them. 

Josiah has died, but now they will be reborn.

 

Non Beenary

VT

19 years old

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