A surge of adrenaline coursed through me as I slammed my foot on the gas pedal that evening. The memory of those final moments remained a blur - the reason for my haste, the destination unknown. All I knew was the agonizing truth settling in: I was gone.
Signed, Heletta W.
A disorienting jolt awoke me. Blinding lights and indecipherable sounds assaulted my senses. Tears streamed down my face as I grappled with the jarring transition from hurtling down a highway to this stark, clinical environment. The confusion escalated into a near panic attack.
Thankfully, the intensity subsided as my senses adjusted. I found myself in a stark white room resembling a strange spaceship. A young man with thick glasses perched on his nose knelt before me. His jet-black hair, styled in a sharp undercut, cascaded down his back.
"Helloooo," he drawled, his voice magnified by the sterile room. "Can you understand me?"
"Perfectly," I replied, flinching at the unexpected volume of his voice, despite its softness. "Though my senses are still..." I trailed off, searching for the right word, "hypersensitive."
"That's odd," he remarked. "I understand you too, which is strange."
"Why is that strange?" I asked, curiosity battling confusion. "Where are we? Why am I here?" My senses continued to sharpen, revealing the spaceship-like interior and the five other individuals scattered around the room. They all seemed as bewildered as I was, slowly coming to terms with this surreal situation.
The young man gestured towards me as he addressed the group. "See, she understands too."
He then turned back to me. "I don't speak English. My native language is Mandarin, and I know some German for fun." He pointed towards a young man seated at a table. "Hayazaki over there speaks Japanese."
Hayazaki responded with an enthusiastic wave. The man then proceeded to introduce everyone by name and language:
Dana Reinder, the girl with vibrant purple highlights, spoke Dutch and English fluently.
Angela Cortez, the girl resting her head on the table, spoke Spanish and a very limited amount of English.
Surya Nababan, the only other male not seated, displayed childlike wonder as he explored the room. He spoke only Indonesian.
Finally, there was Kayode Adegoke, who stood out with his furrowed brow, an expression mirroring my own. He spoke English and Yoruba.
The young man who introduced everyone introduced himself as Shen Zixin. He extended his hand, which I grasped as I stood.
"I'm Riley Jackson," I replied. "Nice to meet you all. It seems we all speak different languages and yet we understand each other perfectly which is weird, and the only thing I remember is driving fast moments ago."
"Same here," Hayazaki chimed in. "The dying part, I mean. I was doing something equally stupid - fiddling with uninsulated wires because my gaming setup kept messing up. and then Bam! Here I am."
A shared chuckle resonated in the room, a sense of camaraderie forming amidst the uncertainty. The girl with dyed hair and tattoos raised her hand.
"So, we're all dead, right?" she stated bluntly, her gaze scanning the room. "We messed up and now we're here, somehow understanding each other despite the language barrier. This must be some kind of afterlife, but what kind?"
The Nigerian man scoffed at her concern, prompting a sharp retort. "What's so funny?" she challenged him. "If I'm in hell, you're here with me, pal."
The Nigerian's expression turned serious. He snapped at the Indonesian, who was still exploring the room. "You! Busy snooping around. What do you think this is? Heaven, hell, or something else entirely?"
The Indonesian, caught off guard, was crouching near a clock-like device. He muttered something about a pendulum before realizing everyone was staring at him.
"Oh!" he exclaimed. "You're talking to me?"
"You're the only Indonesian here," the Nigerian pointed out.
"Then call me by my name," the Indonesian replied.
"Whoa, things are getting a little tense," Hayazaki interjected, his quiet presence almost invisible. "Maybe we should chill until we figure out where we are and what happened. Right, Surya?"
"You remembered my name?" Surya replied, surprised.
"Of course," Hayazaki confirmed, his statement met with a mix of smiles and eye rolls. "So, what do you know about this place? Where are we?"
"I can't say for sure," Surya admitted. "But one thing's clear: there's no food, no bathroom, just that single bed in the other room, and the only door is sealed shut."
"So, heaven or hell?" Dana inquired
"Well, to answer your question" Surya responded to Dana's question, "I'm not too sure of what qualifies as heaven or hell because this place definitely does not meet the criteria"
"But one undeniable fact is that we're trapped in a tiny space with no means of sustenance. We're screwed".
"So hell it is" Dana said.
