Rumination Part 1

Something formed within my skull. It was an awareness in pitch darkness, and the senses started to come back to me. The light breeze brushing by carried a rugged mask of humidity that bore down on my body; a certain softness beneath me that felt like a carpet, or maybe not, there was a hint of untamed vivacity at the edge of each strand of fiber.

My eyes glided open naturally to glean more information. I saw a grass field around my body, stretching across an open area surrounded by trees and bushes. My body was wrapped in a simple cloth that could barely be qualified as clothing, and I seemed to have shrunk from my normal size.

Normal? What was normal? Who am I? Where am I? Questions popped up one by one, but strangely, I didn’t panic, because I felt like the answers were within my memory. Sure enough, the fragments of information stored within my head fused into concrete facts. My name was Thomas Lee. Twenty-six years old. Not that counting my age matters much anymore, considering that my time on Earth was over, because…

To help me make sense of my situation, the memories related to my death came flooding in, or maybe they were just confabulations woven by my confused brain, a frantic grasp for vivid explanations. Either way, these images gave me direction, a sense of self I desperately lacked.

…

“Who am I living for?” I murmured. Moments snuck away from me, and eventually I lost track of how long I was huddling on my bed, with the only indication being that it was nighttime already. Guess I have to go out to buy dinner. My faint desire failed to command my legs to move, such a natural action that I took for granted, as if someone had cut the nerves linking my leg muscles and my mind. Soon, I realized for the first time that what they taught us about depression was entirely correct. I’m depressed, aren’t I?

Perhaps some higher power listened to my silent prayers, as my legs had finally decided to stop cutting off their food source, and heeded my command. Armed with the fragile desire not to waste one more moment, I stumbled out of my room, afraid to be bound by its spell should I stay longer. The clouds were gathering when I stepped out of the apartment complex, heralding the arrival of rain. In response, my pace quickened as I slumped toward the convenience store. Alas, I was forced to stop at a traffic light, though an internal debate raged on about whether I should have ignored the signals. That was when I noticed a cute high school girl standing beside me, also waiting at the pavement.

I wondered what life she had lived up until now. What plans did she have for her future? What kind of personality did she have? Unconsciously, I gawked at her for far too long and too obviously. Unfortunately, she thought I was staring at her chest, the most likely target of prolonged stares. As to how I knew what she was thinking, it was thanks to the disgust shown on her face, and from how she covered herself with her arms, taking a few steps away from me while she was at it. The smartest option was to clear up the misunderstanding, since she might call the police otherwise. As if things were not bad enough for me, my body chose to act out by doing nothing. The girl narrowed her eyes, piercing me with a glare that triggered my fight-or-flight system.

With all my effort, I managed to open my mouth, hoping to explain myself, but no sound came out. What should I even say? “I was not staring at your boobs?” Yeah, that would definitely go well. Before I could decide, another figure slipped between us. It took me a second to register it as human.

A lie that I told myself over and over again was that, despite being in such a sorry state, I was still living with dignity, and wouldn’t fat-shame anyone. Facing this obese creature in his mid-twenties, I could not deny that I felt a sense of happiness through an ugly downward comparison. I quickly reminded myself of my values and imagined how much his appearance must have inconvenienced him, especially when his face looked like the definition of an ogre. Those thoughts calmed me down a little, but the girl screamed and ran away. A sense of superiority propped me up for a brief moment, but then I realized I was pitting my morals against those of a literal teenager, and the depression reigned supreme again.

The man lowered his head, emitting a sorrow not from this single incident, but seemingly at his general life quality. Although his obesity obscured any confidence I had in pinpointing his exact age, I was convinced that he was younger than I was. I should be a good senior in the depression club and offer a few words of encouragement.

I sighed, which came off more pessimistic than I had hoped, and so I added words of care right after, “Are you okay?”

“She ran away from me.” The man said it blandly.

“Does this happen often?”

“Mind your own business.”

“Sorry.” His rude remark didn’t spark anything in me. Guess my brain was truly broken.

We waited for the green light in the silence, but the traffic light insisted on staying red so as to amplify the awkwardness. Eventually, the man could not stand still any longer and stepped forward, still staring at the ground. I grabbed onto his shoulder.

“Wait. The light is still red.”

He broke free of my hold.

“I don’t care.” He dashed across the road. A truck turned a corner and made its way to the man. I reached out and yelled. The man did not respond. Lost in his own world. Seemingly accepting his fate. Was he trying to kill himself? I did not know. I just knew the truck was about to hit him. He was about to die, yet I felt a faint sense of jealousy. Oh. There it was again. I am extremely depressed.

The truck driver managed to steer the truck in time, and as a result, the truck rolled up the curb and crashed straight into me. The pain only lasted half a second. I thought I must have died instantly.

…

Those memories clarified for me that the afterlife most certainly existed, since I was conscious after dying. I wasn’t sure I could completely wrap my head around the implications, but for now, I had bigger issues to solve.

There was not a single clue as to where this place was or how I ended up here. I could be somewhere on Earth, or, like in one of those isekai stories, be reborn in another world, because this place certainly didn’t look like heaven or hell. I glanced at my hands. It was unbelievable how tiny they had gotten. I touched my face to feel its shape, and from that, I estimated my appearance to have reverted to around ten years old. I sat up and surveyed the surrounding greenery with caution. With this child body, surviving in the wilderness would not be easy.

The rustling of the bushes alerted me. My eyes locked onto the source of the sound. A truck-sized boar charged toward me at a speed comparable to the vehicle in question. While fear was gradually building up in me, my body already leaped into action, barely in time to dodge the charge. Why couldn’t I do the same for the truck? My body felt more agile than when I was alive. I caught my breath and sized up the boar more thoroughly.

It was around three meters long, maybe I should treat it as an elephant instead, especially when it also had two tusks, though unlike those of an elephant, they curled up to its forehead. The boar had its sharp red eyes locked directly on me. Did it view me as a threat, or as prey, or as an intruder in its territory? I stared back into its eyes, hoping to find an answer. Its mindset would determine how I should respond to it. If it treats me as a threat, I should make myself as small as possible. If it treats me as prey, I must do the opposite. If it treats me as an intruder, I should run away. As my thoughts raced in my head, they obscured my fear for the moment.

The boar ramped up its speed again while charging at me for a second attack. I ran to the nearest tree and swirled around it. The boar crashed into the trunk. Dazed. Its legs went limp, and its body slammed onto the ground. Its fall blasted a whiff of air at me, toppling me for a second. I regained my balance, eyes still pinned on the boar.

The boar shook its body, as if confusion were water that could be flung away. It stood back up and turned away from me. In a surprising motion, it dashed to another tree and crashed into it. Maybe this was mating season for it, and the excessive testosterone made it aggressive towards anything that moved. After forming this hypothesis, my head spun. The newfound dizziness paradoxically felt like a revelation, like I had picked the correct path.

A wordless voice whispered in my head, but I understood it as clearly as I ever could. Angry! Angry! It said something along those lines. I stared at the giant beast, still targeting the trunk of the tree. The voice seemed to be in sync with the boar. The logical conclusion was that I gained the ability to listen to the inner voice of animals.

I was kidding, of course. It must be some stress-induced hypersensitivity plus my interpretation of those voices as originating from the boar. I should have run away when I had the chance, but my feet stuck in place, and all I could do was observe this creature, whose thoughts were broadcast to me. I didn’t know how curiosity overcame my sense of self-preservation, perhaps with the help of a touch of pity, directed at the foolish animal wasting its energy on inanimate objects.

The boar eventually stopped its attack on the trees and aimed its sight at me again. I finally found the strength to flee, but it was too late. The boar caught up with me in no time and sent me flying toward a tree. With a crash, I expected my skull to be smashed into pieces, or at least my neck would snap at the impact. Contrary to my expectations, I was largely unscathed after the attack, besides a few minor scratches.

Little effort was needed for me to pick myself up. And the damage I had done to the tree, resulting from the impact, became clear to me. The crash partially fractured the trunk, which had a cross-sectional area similar to a human leg, leaving it in a state where it could break completely anytime as it swayed overhead.

Another attack came without warning, and another. The boar relentlessly struck me over and over again as if I were a sturdy punching bag. I attempted to run away at first, but eventually I accepted my fate and let the boar attack me as much as it liked. As my attention drifted away from the boar, the whispers in my head also faded.