Waiting for the dream

I never believed in it—this so-called “gift” from an unknown giver. A mysterious figure had told me, “You will experience hell first, then heaven. Each night, your dreams will take you there.” I laughed it off. But on the first night, I went to sleep, and when I opened my eyes, I was in hell.

The Nightmare Begins

It wasn’t just fire. Hell was deeper than flames. It was endless suffering, stretching beyond what my mind could grasp. Shadows moved in agony, whispering cries of regret that echoed in my ears like an unending wail. The ground beneath me burned like molten iron, yet it did not consume my flesh—it only tortured.

At first, my brain rejected it. This isn’t real. This is a dream. But the pain had no boundaries, no limits. My mind, built to understand the temporary nature of suffering, could not process the horror of eternity. I felt something snap inside. My nervous system, designed to handle short bursts of pain, was drowning in an ocean of never-ending torment. The brain is meant to adapt, but how can it adapt to suffering that has no end?

My thoughts became erratic. My senses overloaded—screams that never stopped, the acrid smell of burning flesh, the endless heat suffocating my lungs. My brain struggled to protect itself, to detach, to escape. But there was no escape. There was only hell.

And my heart—oh, my heart.

It pounded with an unnatural force, as if trying to break free from my chest. At first, it raced in panic, in terror. But as the suffering continued, a new pain emerged. A deeper pain. A pain that was not physical, but emotional—something beyond fear. Despair.

Because in that moment, I realized the worst part of hell.

It was not the fire. Not the screaming. Not the endless pain.

It was the absence of hope.

And that is what crushed my heart the most. Because the heart, no matter how much pain it endures, always clings to the smallest flicker of hope. But in hell, hope did not exist. And so, my heart ached in a way no human should ever feel—the pain of knowing that the suffering will never end.

I screamed. I begged to wake up. And then, just as suddenly as it began, I did.

The Waiting

I gasped for air, my body drenched in sweat. My heart still pounded in my chest, my brain struggling to readjust to reality. But something inside me shifted. I remembered the promise: If you survive the night in hell, the next dream will take you to paradise.

I spent the whole day restless, waiting for nightfall. The memory of hell haunted me, but the promise of heaven excited me even more. I had never longed to sleep this much before.

Paradise Unfolds

And then, I drifted into sleep once more.

When I opened my eyes, my heart almost stopped—but not in fear.

This time, it was in awe.

I was surrounded by light—soft, golden light that neither blinded nor burned. The air was scented with something beyond flowers, beyond earth, beyond anything I had ever known. It was a fragrance of pure joy.

And my heart, which had been tortured beyond limits the night before, felt something else entirely—peace.

It was as if every wound, every crack, every moment of suffering had been erased. My chest felt light, as if I had been carrying an invisible weight my entire life, and now it was gone.

The sky shimmered in colors that did not exist in the world I knew. Trees stretched into infinity, their leaves whispering melodies that spoke directly to my soul. Rivers of silver and gold ran without noise, their waters carrying a strange serenity that settled in my chest.

I walked on pathways that glowed beneath my feet. Every step felt weightless, as if the burdens of life had vanished. And the people—faces glowing with peace, their laughter like a song I had long forgotten but instantly recognized. They welcomed me, their touch warm and comforting, like an embrace from the universe itself.

I felt something I had never truly felt before—the real love of God.

My heart swelled, but this time, it was not with pain. It was with pure, unshakable joy. The kind of joy that makes you want to cry, not because you are sad, but because you have found something you didn’t even know you were searching for.

It was not pleasure. It was not happiness. It was something far greater.

It was fulfillment.

I did not want to wake up.

The Cycle

But I did.

And I knew what was coming next. Hell.

I sat on my bed, shaking. I had tasted heaven, yet I had to return to torment. It was unfair. But the thought that I would eventually return to paradise kept me steady. I just have to endure it, I thought.

And so, the cycle continued. Each night, I was thrown back into the flames of despair, and each following night, I soared into the realms of bliss. It was a battle, a torment, a temptation.

At times, my brain felt like it was breaking under the weight of extremes. How could one endure so much suffering and so much joy in a single existence? And yet, my heart—fragile yet resilient—kept going, kept beating, kept hoping.

One day, I would wake up and not have to return to hell. One day, I would sleep and remain in paradise forever.

I just had to wait for the dream.

The Question

But then, a thought struck me.

What if this life I was living—the one where I sat in my bed, waiting—was also part of the dream?

And what if, when I finally woke up for the last time… I would find out where I truly belonged?