Insufficient Impact - Short Story About the Meaning Of Life

Insufficient Impact

By Victoria Tchervenski 

Jeremy Wood didn’t remember taking any stairs, but then again, he didn’t remember dying either. Not yet, at least. Not when he appeared in this strange place, feeling like...absolutely nothing. 

He looked back at the endless grand staircase on top of which he stood, then turned unblinking to the podium made of glass, reflecting his image with an unsettling shimmer that reminded him of shallow water disturbed by a gentle breeze. Jeramy shifted his weight, noticing the doors for the first time, the doors. His eyes stung with a faraway feeling. He sensed his vision blurring, shifting. The ambient light surrounding him had dimmed imperceptibly. Darkness, rolling out like a mist, narrowed his field of vision to the area with the doors. The doors. Doors that loomed too tall above him, doors with disproportionate handles too high for him to reach. 

Jeremy felt his phantom self inhale and some of his senses returned. He tasted salt granule on his tongue and scrunched his nose, noticing the smell of burnt paper that stung his nostrils. 

It was all dark now, he didn't need to turn to confirm it. The sharp contrast with the mysterious doors, whose frames glowed almost painfully white with light was enough of a clue. Another breath filled his ghostlike lungs and he could almost touch the darkness, like a blanket shielding a young child from his nightmares. 

Scraping the salt feeling from his tongue against the roof of his mouth, Jeramy Wood considered his situation.

The Void. A thundering voice, sounding far away, reverberated in his skull. He sensed a ripple running through his body as if his very being was sensitive to the sound. The image of his reflection earlier came to mind.  

He closed his eyes, and the light of the doors burned through his eyelids. Was he supposed to go somewhere? Was he supposed to remember something? Was he supposed to...was he supposed to…?

Jeremy Wood. You are dead, and you have failed.

Jeremy felt himself fuzz again, goosebumps and static raced through the shape that was him. The light of the doors dimmed behind his eyelids and he opened them reluctantly. A shape had appeared in front of the doors. Two shapes. He blinked, unsure if he wanted to see what was there but certain there was no running away. Their piercing stares almost burned on his skin. His eyes finally adjusted, focusing on the two beings and he stumbled backward in fright. The platform caught him from falling, curling upward for support, not allowing him to fall into the void. 

Not yet.

“Not yet?” Jeremy repeated, the words coming out in a question. The surprise of hearing his own voice echoed by the endless space only shortly registered before the shock of meeting the figures’ eyes. He pushed himself closer to the wall, then jumped with surprise when it bent to his touch. He was relieved it held and did not let him drop. 

They were horrifyingly inhuman. Soul strikingly beautiful and terrifying in their flawlessness, the beings that stood in front of Jeramy were like nothing he had ever seen or imagined. Their long, grey faces shone silver with the light from their unblinking eyes.  The two entities could be mistaken for some modern art installation, sculptures meticulously carved with dreadful inspiration to cause any viewer weakness in the knees, if it was not for the gravity of their presence. 

The beings’ hooded robes left marks of silver, like painted strokes suspended in the air whenever they moved. One brought its slender fingers together, and Jeremy felt his terror pulled away from him. Left in a complete calm in an instance, confusion swirled but passed quickly and Jeramy was able to stand up straighter and face whatever was coming.

His mind shrunk from all thoughts that formed in expectation of that development. 

“I’m not dead.” He said, boldly denying all that went on, fighting off the hysteria that was threatening to overtake him again. His eyes wide and his mouth hanging open, Jeramy did not appear at all sure of this claim.

You have died, and you have failed.

“What do you mean?” Jeremy’s voice echoed and the wall behind him rippled again when his heel hit as he tried to step back. 

You have failed the task,

“What do you mean, I’ve died?” Jeremy interrupted the voice, his own rose in volume and he tried to keep his eyes up, unsure which figure to watch. They moved at the same time, spoke at the same time, and both shone too brightly. Too brightly.

Most do not wish to remember. Would you like to remember?

“YES-- yes. I can’t have died! Why do I remember some things and not others?” 

We will allow this.

Jeremy felt a sharp pang of memories unfurrowing in his mind, similar to what he felt looking at the doors. Only this time, images blurred in his vision. It was him, his own body. He sighed in relief when he could feel the steering wheel against his palms. “Steering wheel?” He said aloud, engulfed in the memory. He was driving, the road glowed purple with passing lights, it had rained and it was dark. His memory-self inhaled and Jeremy almost cried with relief when the salt and soot feeling never came. He’d forgotten what breath was like. “How long have I been trapped here?” He breathed, savoring the sensation. His memory-self blinked slowly, eyelids heavy with sleep. His chest tightened and the memory blurred. The other cars on the highway, cars he wasn’t aware of, honked as they nearly avoided his vehicle. A skrrt skrrt of wheels sliding on the wet asphalt and his body jerked forward, his face colliding with the airbag a second before his body was thrown back by the seat belt, crushing his ribs, choking him as he gasped for air. His legs felt broken. His face felt broken. His whole body was broken. He choked. A second of hyper-awareness, and then- 

Jeremy screamed into the void and the memory stopped, leaving behind a trail of faint sounds and feelings until even those were dulled. 

“Why would you do this to me?” Jeremy asked, breathless, only now faintly aware of the cold platform behind his back. 

You requested to see this memory.

“WHY WOULD I REQUEST THAT? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? YOU KILLED ME?” Jeremy’s thoughts were scrambling.

We are the gatekeepers to the eternal afterworld. We had no part in your death. 

“Then how did you KNOW I was DEAD?” Jeremy felt incredulous. “I can’t-I can’t- can I call someone? The paramedics! Did someone call for help? CPR? I know my mom’s number. Please, it’s an emergency.” His breaths quickened and he wanted to scrape his tongue from the salt. “I wanna go home, I wanna go home. You can’t just do this. You can’t just do this.” He felt his thoughts pulled away from him again, and this time he pulled back, held on for a moment, but his effort was futile.

You are here, therefore you have died. We are here to explain. We have many more to attend to. The line is long, as you could try to imagine.

Their mouths opened and closed, but the sound didn’t seem to be coming from them. The voices echoed inside Jeremy’s mind and surrounded him. “So, I am dead.” His voice didn’t sound like his own when he said it. The words didn’t fit right with his perception and he felt dizzy.

Yes.

“That can’t be right. What am I doing here? Is this the afterlife? What happens now? You said I was in line, for what?”

You are in line to return. But we first must explain why, so you may do better.

“I can go back? Take me back.” Jeremy blurted and felt a flood of relief. His memories were clouded but returned, gifted back to him by the gatekeepers. “You’re right, I do need to go back. Tell me what I should do. I think I’m ready to go back. Whatever you need, I can do it. ” He felt oddly relieved at the thought of being revived on an operating table somewhere. He felt tears prick his eyes at the thought of breathing something other than this sooty air again. 

You will return to the Earth, reborn. To start anew. 

Jeremy paused, no longer certain of his situation. “Reborn? But what about my family, my friends? You said I could go back, I don’t understand?”

You didn’t fulfill your time on Earth. You will hardly be remembered from this life, and your immediate impact on the Earth was insufficient. You must go back and try again, yet another attempt for your soul. Once you succeed, you will be allowed peace, though be warned, once you succeed you may want to keep going. You will not have the choice to keep going. Anyone who lived a life contributive to society is behind those gates. 

The gatekeepers pointed a finger towards the shining gates.

All gates are still closed to you. Return, and do better.

“Insufficient...insufficient  impact?” Jeremy frantically searched his head for sense, anything that just made sense. “I still don’t understand, what do you mean by insufficient impact? I can’t go back yet, I need to understand my purpose before… restart?”

You understood this once. We do not see why you do not understand now. They brought their hands up, and Jeremy saw their marble-like palms, carved with symbols that eerily reminded him of the before blinking into a new memory. 

It was a whole flash of thoughts and pictures, his teen years, the worst of them. The ones where he was never good enough for himself. Standards set too high. He remembered the need to achieve, to be something more than what he was expected to be, to live on forever by legacy. It had taken him years of therapy and mind-training to pull himself away from that mindset that he did not matter if he wasn’t better. If he wasn’t known by millions, did he even exist? He didn’t want to waste his life, and his family was proud of his big dreams, but when it threw him into a depression, he was forced away. 

“I had to let go of my unrealistic expectations for myself in order to live a happy life.” He remembered as the pictures and thoughts disappeared. That’s what everyone told him, and that’s what he needed to learn. “I needed to put my health first and work on being a better person.” He winced at his own words as he slowly came to the understanding.

You gave up. That was when you failed. Had you lived on, they may have been a chance, but you gave up and now you have failed.

“I was 23 when I died,” Jeremy said, a lump growing in his throat. “You didn’t give me a chance! surely I can--I can go back. That’s what you said isn’t it?”

You will return as new.

“As new?” Jeramy echoed out loud.

You will be reborn shortly. There are others waiting, if you’d go willingly, our job would be lessened.

“I don’t understand. My life was useless? After all that work? After all those therapy sessions and meditation? I was right? And now, I need to start over?” Jeremy thought back to all those times he’d pushed himself to try harder, do better, have bigger goals, straining to keep up with himself. Being told he needs to settle for less, “give up” but don’t “give up”. Give up on this unachievable life-altering thing, settle for just being happy and move on with your life. As long as you’re a good person, you’ll go to the good place when you die. “I want to go back to my old life! I want to fix it, I’ll work harder, I’ll work harder, I’ll do better!” He was repeating himself again, but this was urgent. He didn’t know when he got the boldness, or when he’d stood and the platform fell down behind him, but he knew he needed to go back.

We are not here to return you to your failed life. We are here to pass you on to the next so you may one day succeed. We will always be here until they’ve all succeeded, then we can all be free.

“So this is the meaning of life! To make a change and I was only... insufficient impact. I.. Will I remember?” he gulped, already knowing the answer. It was the question everyone spent their lives trying to answer. Feeling nauseated, he didn’t notice the slight movement of the floor beneath him. The taste of salt lingered and grains like sand crunched between his clenched teeth. The smell of burning paper surrounded him, accenting the cooler air coming from the doors and it felt like failure. “I failed.” Jeramy breathed out, then looking at the imposing figures added “this time.”

Correct. Try again.

Jeremy had nowhere to run or hide or process the truth, the knowledge that he held, the meaning of life. Nowhere to go when the glassy floor dissolved like his remaining thoughts and memories as he fell through it. Down, down, down. 

You’ve failed. Try again.