Unwilling Reincarnation

"I can give you thousands of names; "Yahweh", "Allah", "Brahma"...but, the one and only name that works across all is–"God"--however, you may call me whatever you wish," the old man told him.

"God…?" He repeated in perplexion.

He was so taken aback by the wizened elder that he didn't even think about the fact that he was just sitting there in the warm, spring water.

The one claiming to be "God" nodded his head slightly, "Tell me, what was it you last remembered before arriving here?"

Being asked this, he sat there in the water for a moment as he stared at the enigmatic man before deciding to answer quietly.

"I...was falling from a bridge," he answered.

"You leapt from a bridge," the bearded fellow corrected him.

Once again, supernatural knowledge seemed to fall from the wrinkled lips of the pipe-smoking elder, taking him by surprise though he was hardly in the mood for games.

"Listen…just tell me what this is about, okay? I didn't do what I did so I could talk to some old man claiming to be "God", alright?" He told the man.

The man laughed heartily in response, having to slap his own chest as his own laugh caused him to cough up, "You're quite the impatient one, aren't you? What's the rush, boy? I'd say a man seeking death has no qualms about time."

Being annoyed by the wizened man, he brought himself out of the spring water, lifting himself onto the rocky flooring of the secluded spring as he stood on the edge of the mountainside.

I don't know what's going on, but apparently I'm losing it. I need to finish what I started, he thought.

Glancing back, he half-expected "God" to try and stop him, or at least sway him with words, but the man with a far-stretching beard only watched him while smoking from his long, timber pipe.

Not hesitating a moment more, he leapt from the side of the serene mountain spring, looking down to see the ground was thousands of meters below–a for sure fatal height.

Splash.

Again, he was submerged in water, to his utmost surprise.

Huh–? He thought.

Climbing his way up frantically after having his breathing compromised, he resurfaced to find himself back at the exact same spring, looking at the elderly man who smiled at him.

"What the hell is going on?!" He yelled out to the old man.

At last, an answer came from the old man's lips as he blew out the smoke from his pipe directly into his face, causing him to cough and swipe it away.

"You're not going to die," the old man told him, "Not until you learn to value life, that is."

"What're you talking about…?" He coughed, swatting the smoke away, though it held a fragrant scent.

"You have yet to appreciate life, and even more, you don't appreciate death for what it truly is. Watching you, I grew…frustrated, you could say. I thought "This boy has it all wrong, no, no!" and so, I brought you here," the man explained with a goofy smile.

It was all so perplexing to him, but he was starting to understand: the man he spoke to truly was "God", there wasn't much of another explanation.

"I don't get it…"not appreciating life", "not appreciating death"...If you're "God", then you dealt me the hand I was given–and you expect me to cherish my life?! I was a failure–I had nobody, no friends, no family–nothing! Yet you want me to appreciate that?!" He yelled out, slamming his fist against the serene sprint water, disturbing it.

Again, God sat there as he drew in a breath through the pipe before exhaling the fragrant smoke upwards, mixing with the steam of the warm spring.

"You've got it all wrong, child."

"I've got it wrong?" He repeated defensively.

The elderly one continued, "I don't control the paths taken in life. It is up to you to make of what you will with what is given."

"Then why're you intervening now…?" He asked.

God smiled, stroking his beard, "Well, that's simple…because, I feel like it!"

As a cloud passed over the isolated spring, it cast a shadow momentarily over the two before God continued.

"You will be reincarnated into another world. There, you will learn to live. You will learn to smile again, to laugh again, to have ambitions, and to love and be loved, child," God now spoke in a serious tone.

It was when meeting one's own creator that all other pretenses were dropped; being spoken to in this serious, seraphic voice, he fell silent, only able to gaze up at the wizened entity as the words traveled directly to him.

"...I don't want it," he told, lowering his head, "I tried finding it. I couldn't find a single reason to keep going–why subject me to the same pain again?"

"I am a selfish man," God told him, "even if it means you have to struggle and carry yourself through the abyss of despair, I will wait for the day you smile. Then, I will be satisfied."

His words were caught in his throat at such words, looking up at the kind-eyed deity as the elderly one raised his wrinkled, seemingly-frail hand.

"Do your best, —"

Just as his name was uttered by God, the deity snapped his fingers–returning it all to black.