After I passed through the black marble, I died.
No one, not even light, can escape the gravitational pull of a black hole; but I didn't see this, or understand this, until I'd already touched the event horizon leading towards the black hole's singularity, or collapsing center—which for Daffodil's little marble-sized black hole, was less than an inch around its shell—and after that, I spaghettified.
Then I was gone.
The event horizon is a point of no return, like when a river pulls too hard to avoid the waterfall. I was gone, I'd been gone, I'd never been before. At the bottom of the waterfall, no one had ever heard of me, or even thought I'd existed, except Daffodil.
Somehow, I knew Daffodil remembered me.
The future didn't flash before my eyes, as I thought it could.
Time warped tremendously, yes, but not so much that I could see history fold in front of me; instead I could only feel history behind me, in a single gasp from the fading planet;
And by the time I gravitated close enough to the singularity where I might've seen the future, I was no longer alive. The singularity was at the dense, oscillating center; so that as it undulated, it moved through me, tearing me limb from limb, memory from memory.
Just before everything went blank, I heard music.
Once I started breaking apart, I wasn't me anymore.
Life is made from dead parts, after all.
Entire orchestras, built on simple notes.
Just as I accepted I'd died, I reformed in another place, still on the same timeline—in the same pocket universe lulling around the multiverse—and I understood that my family didn't remember me anymore.
I'd say my friends wouldn't remember me either, except it was my desperation for friendship that led me to Daffodil. Any friendships I had before her had collapsed in high school, so I did not feel that loss. My erasure from my past was a painless as an erase mark on a childhood drawing.
I opened my eyes, and Daffodil's golden hair wrapped around me, left and right, up and down.
We live in a multiverse of many universes, all with their own space-times and physics, same as we live in a city of many people, all with their own bloodlines and belief systems.
We live in a body of many cells, all with their own atoms and subatomic particles, same as we live in a house of many things, all built by their own craftsmen and materials.
The truth encapsulates me. Paralysis chills me to my bones.
"I got you," Daffodil whispers, lifting me up. "Come on."
When I died—the moment I passed the event horizon of the marble-sized black hole—I lost my life as a college student on the floating continent of Geneva. Forever.
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Emergence No. 7Science Fiction
E'Ruin, our sister planet, is trying to contact Earth before our worlds collide. In-progress story, to be resumed February 19. #2 Wormholes | October 18 #429 Sci-fi | October 18 The Chocolate Awards Participant The Adventure Awards Participant The...