[ WP ] You 've been dead for 67 days . You awake to the entire world watching the first human revival . Your revival .

After my apparent resurrection there was a lottery. Sitting before me was the ninth winner. His prize was to be able to speak to me in this suffocating, glaring white room. He was not alone, mind you; behind him was an array of filming equipment. The conversations were being televised worldwide. Billions of craving fools eager to hear the truth about an afterlife, reincarnation, or some simple answer about the most primordial inquiry of all. This man would be no different from the eight before him or the naive masses that sat motionless and breathless in front of their screens. 
 
 He was an older gentleman, and unmistakably a priest. This would be good. 
 
 `` H-hello, Scott,'' he said shakily, clearing his throat several times before doing so. `` My name is Father Kieren, and i'd like to speak with you about God.'' 
 
 `` Yeah, you and everyone else.'' I responded. My own voice sounded strange to me. It seemed monotonous, flat, emotionless. I remember emotion; such a fickle thing that drives us. Or should I say them. 
 
 Father Kieren's eyes widened. In those grey-green pools I saw distaste, distrust, even fear. `` This is no time for disdain, Scott. What has happened today is of grave importance to me, to you, to *everyone*.'' He leapt from his seat in his passion. `` You have a duty to the people of this planet. You have shattered the enigma, Scott. You have the answers!'' 
 
 `` What would you like me to say, Father?'' I said, after a brief silence that obviously discomforted the priest. If there's one thing i've noticed since my return to the Mortal Coil, it's that people do n't like silence. `` One woman wanted me to tell her that her grandmother is okay, that she's happy with her long dead husband in heaven. A man named Frederick wanted me to give him back his legs, fucking *begged* me for them. His tears still have yet to dry on my shirt. The person in before you? A young single mother, hysterical, maybe even mad. She wanted to kill her children and have me screw her until she had my immortal babies.'' I stopped to note that I had not raised my voice at all; in fact, it was barely a whisper. `` Now, i'll ask you again. What is it you want me to say?'' 
 
 Father Kieren crossed himself hastily, a gesture that almost made me want to throttle him. `` I want you... I want you to tell me what it was like. What did you see?'' 
 
 `` *See*, Father? How can one see without eyes? Do you expect, when your brain dies, that your everlasting soul will rise up from within your fleshheap of a body—eyes and all—in crisp, new robes? No. With the brain goes the eyes. Goes the mouth. Goes the hands, the feet, everything. There is no soul. No god to hand out solace like they're free samples. There is no promise of life after life. No. Death promises nothing but eternity.'' 
 
 The priest's skin had gone paper-white. His eyes bulged and sweat stood out on his forehead underneath the florescence. His demeanor did not seem to lessen his desperate curiosity. `` What is it like? Being here once again?'' 
 
 I expect my answer was not what he wanted to hear: `` The weariness of being alive is inconceivable.'' 
 
 Kieran's brow furrowed. `` Explain.'' 
 
 `` I am in no way deeming life itself as unimportant, for life and death are of the same substance, only on different sides of the spectrum,'' I began, now staring not at the man before me, but the cameras behind him. `` But human life as you know it is wasteful. Fear is the standard now. I can feel it all over, like a damp blanket. Hatred has a taste, you know; it's like sucking on a copper penny, and i'm drowning in its flavor.'' 
 
 Without any sense of self-control, I stood up and slammed my chair into the wall behind me. Was I feeling again? Did it matter? 
 
 `` Is this not what you wanted?'' I said, the words seething from between my teeth. I was pointing at the cameras. Father Kieran attempted to grab a hold of me and sit me down, but withdrew immediately once he felt just how cold I was. `` Answers, answers, answers! Well here is your answer: death is the ultimate authority. No god will judge you. Death is impartial to your deeds here and will accept all into its unfathomable embrace. And you know what? In that nothingness there was peace. I can not say I felt it, but there was a simple, beautiful harmony in that darkness, and I was a part of it. But you brought me back. I do n't care how or why, only that you dared. *You dared*.''
