Mark, a 17 year old high school student died in an alleyway. Stabbed to death by a gangster who filmed the whole ordeal. Mark,  who lay lifelessly on the ground, was still able to think, see and hear somehow.

'17 years of life and I just die in an alleyway. How incredible.' Mark thought, 'I would've thought the afterlife would be a lot quieter and dark, and away from Earth. I can still hear the cars passing by. Guess Humans were wrong about the afterlife. Guess it was on Earth all this ti-'

"Indeed, you mortals have always been wrong about the afterlife. Before you ask, no, this miserable place isn't the afterlife." An uplifting voice spread out, before immense pressure built up in the surroundings.Mark tried to look around to see where the voice came from but was unsuccessful in moving his neck and dead body. Despite being dead, Mark felt like he was going to suffocate and die again, or at the very least pass out.

'Dying twice on the same day. What an achievement.' Mark thought, as he tried to joke in his mind to offset the pain he was feeling 

"My apologies, I always forget to restrain my heavenly presence when I'm on the mortal plane." The voice rang out again, this time with no pressure following it. "Now, lets bring you over to the realm of the dead."

Before Mark could reply, he felt nauseous and wanted to vomit. Restraining himself, he looked around. The alleyway he died in disappeared, and instead, he saw infinite skies and clouds replace his surroundings. Below him was a carpet, seeming to float on nothing but clouds.

"Hello Mark, and welcome to your after-death therapy session!" The uplifting voice rang out, except this time a lot less formal. Mark could now make out his figure. He had golden hair that was shoulder length. He wore white robes and sandals, like what you see Gods occasionally wear in novels and comics.

'Wait, a therapy session!?!?'