One Shots

A World Where I Was Never Born

I stand at the precipice, the wind swirling around me as I grapple with the weight of my thoughts. The cliff's edge seems like a boundary between despair and the unknown. Clutching the rose the witch gave me, I ponder her warning about the limitations of wishes, the darker magic it would invoke, and the heavy consequences they bear.

"A wish for a rose." Her words echoed in my mind to the point I knew my wish could cost me my life. But I was convinced I had to see, I had to know. What could the world look like if that night took place differently? I blamed myself as I remember how the beautiful and happy family I was part of just separated under my own eyes, under my own watch. But what if I could change it? Make it so my parents lived their happily ever after forever even if I'd never be a part of it?

In the deafening silence of my mind within my own thoughts, a figure materializes beside me, shimmering with an otherworldly glow.

"I see your pain," the presence speaks, a voice like a soothing melody in the raging wind.

I stand speechless, gazing at the angelic being whose eyes carry the weight of a millennia.

"I haven't made my wish," I declare a sense of certainty in my words.

"Come with me," the being offers, "and you'll witness what you desire without using that rose."

The offer tugs at the frayed edges of my soul, promising respite from unending anguish. Yet, a surge of clarity pierces through me as memories of shared moments with loved ones flicker like distant stars.

"To a fresh start." I murmur as if I was making a toast to life.

I accept the offer and the world morphs around me. I find myself a silent observer in a home where my presence is absent. My loved ones, wearing smiles that lack the warmth I once knew, gather around a table, their laughter echoes hollowly through the room.

And then the night that changed everything appears, a story I heard so many times before but never witnessed in the flesh, unfolded right before my eyes but differently. A man with evil intentions came to my home.

The next thing I know, my father, a pillar of strength in my world, got in the way and now lays on the floor motionless, a gunshot wound darkening his chest and bleeding to death. Shock pierced through me seeing the life drained from him, a sight I never imagined. My mother, pregnant with me and in anguish, cradled her swollen belly and the gush of blood started to fall on the floor from her body, tears streaming down her face. A gut-wrenching realization struck me like a thunderbolt—she miscarried me in this reality while she had me in mine; my father died in this reality while he lived in mine; my siblings were never born in this reality but they were born in mine.

The air thickened with sorrow as I witnessed her inconsolable grief. The loss of my existence and my father's had ripped a chasm in her soul that seemed no amount of time could heal. She clung to her reality, pain etched in every tear-stained breath, growing in her surroundings.

Time passed, and I watch her struggle in solitude, a life that would never know my presence. Her pain, raw and unyielding, radiated around her. A world where I was but a whisper of a memory, a dream of what might have been.

She wore a fragile smile, attempting to stitch together a semblance of happiness, but the emptiness in her eyes betrayed the charade. My heart broke witnessing her silent battles, the ache of her unspoken longing echoing in the silent corners of her heart. It was a reality I couldn't bear—the knowledge that my absence had caused irreparable wounds, leaving her to navigate a life without the joy I might have brought.

In a twist of fate, I see her trying to rebuild her world with a new family, attempting to stitch together happiness. Yet, the emptiness in her eyes betrays her efforts, revealing the void my father and I left behind. The pain of witnessing the depth of loss and longing I had inadvertently caused overwhelmed me. The offer, once a beacon of possibility, now loomed as a testament to the place I held in the lives of those I loved.

A resolve strengthened within me—a resolute understanding that even amid despair and struggles, a fresh start was not in the cards. I found myself yearning my reality, flawed and imperfect as it might be. I made a silent vow—to reject the offer and return to my reality, to face the struggles and the pain, knowing that my presence, however flawed, was intertwined with the irreplaceable fabric of their lives.

I whispered a farewell to the world where I had never existed, longing for the familiar embrace of the reality I called my own.

As I returned the being asked "Was it everything you wished for?"

"No."

"Say your wish out loud."

"To witness a world where I was never born."

"Erasing your existence means unraveling the very fabric of every encounter, impact, and guiding hand you've had in others' lives. It disrupts the precise course they were meant to take, initiating a catastrophic chain of events never destined to unfold."

The being remained beside me, a silent observer of my tumultuous emotions. "What did you learn?" they inquired softly.

"That my presence, however flawed, is woven into the intricate tapestry of people's lives and my own. That I am irreplaceable in my imperfection," I murmured, the weight of my understanding heavy upon my heart.

The being's eyes shimmered with a knowing light, acknowledging the depth of my revelation. "Your presence matters more than you realize,"

As the winds calmed and the echoes of my resolve lingered, a subtle shift in the air settled around me. The being beside me exuded an aura of serenity, a presence both familiar and enigmatic.

"You've faced a truth many struggle to comprehend," the being spoke, their voice now carrying an otherworldly resonance. "What happened isn't your fault."

I turned, searching their eyes for answers, finding depths of wisdom beyond mortal understanding.

A serene smile graced their lips. "You've glimpsed the intricacies of existence, the undeniable value of your presence. You've witnessed the ripples your very being creates."

The being's words resonated like an echo through the canyon. "Who are you?" I asked, a whisper tinged with awe. I waited, anticipation weaving through my thoughts.

"I am the weaver of realities, the architect of existence. I am known by many names but to you, I am the essence that molds your universe. I am God."

Speechlessness settled over me, the weight of the revelation mingling with a newfound understanding.

"In your search for truth, I offered glimpses," the divine being affirmed. "To understand the value of your presence, flawed yet essential, is to understand the essence of creation."

Just like that his presence dissolved into the breeze, leaving a lingering warmth within me.

I stood at the precipice, the understanding of my significance within the grand tapestry of existence guiding my steps. My life wasn't over yet, my purpose and journey were just starting, and even God himself had to come to make me realize this.