What is the meaning of life?
It's a question everyone has asked at some point.
Four years ago, learning my life was short gave that question enormous weight for me.
I remember the overwhelming shock the moment the words left the doctor's mouth. The only things going through my mind were "why?" and "how?"
That day, everything collapsed, and the emotions that took over were regret and fear.
Regret for having spent my childhood and adolescence only studying, thinking that the "future" would make it all worthwhile. In the end, I only got into a mediocre psychology college and racked up a huge debt.
Fear of the end. I always followed the philosophy that, no matter how worthless life gets, it should be lived. But after that news, it felt like the world was mocking my thoughts.
I remember that when I got home, I broke all the furniture to vent my frustrations. But deep down, I knew I'd have to face this new reality.
After days of self-pity, watching shallow and empty videos, I had an idea that would change my life forever.
It was while watching those videos that I discovered the famous coaches, "specialists in transforming lives." Seeing people believe in such nonsense, I asked myself: why should I live less than these ignorant people?
If my life was destined to end, why stay lying down, lamenting and procrastinating? I concluded that money would be essential to make the most of the time I had left.
Seeing those "walking wallets" just waiting for empty words and simplistic solutions, I realized there was no reason not to take advantage.
The rise was pathetically easy. I started by taking photos in front of rented luxury cars and created a course: "How I made my first million at 21." My background in psychology was the perfect weapon. I wasn't selling courses, I was selling hope. I promised wealth, but called it "faith." I replaced tithing with "investing in yourself." Little by little, I stopped being just a coach. I was becoming the leader of a cult, and they, my blind devotees.
To create a cult, you need:
An absolute figure of leadership;
Followers who blindly obey my instructions, without question;
And, above all, an ideology behind it, which is nothing more than a distorted mix of religion with the formula for prosperity.
Now, I seek not only money, but above all power—specifically, the feeling of being worshipped as a deity by my followers.
"We've arrived, sir."
With that voice, my reflection on how I reached the top came to an end. Looking at the owner of the voice, I saw my security guard opening the helicopter door.
"Good job, Logan. Exceptional as always." As soon as I finished, I put a hundred-dollar bill in his hand.
With a look of devotion, he replied, "Thank you very much, sir, for your generosity." He then escorted me to my mansion.
Inside, there was everything money could buy: an aquarium with a shark, furniture made from the finest materials, and several computers.
I looked carefully until I saw my secretary coming toward me, with a worried expression.
"What's wrong, Mary, to have that look like you think the world is ending?" I joked.
As I said that, she timidly looked down. "You always find a way to tease me, Jack," she said, hands behind her back.
Looking at Mary, I saw how her beauty surpassed that of many models: short black hair, a face that would make many actresses cry with envy, and a voluptuous body that would make any man drool.
"Well, it's impossible not to tease a cute secretary like you," I said, remembering the wonderful taste when I had her.
"Sir, don't mock…" she murmured, adjusting herself. "It's the madam. She's furious and demands your presence immediately."
"Damn, just when my day was getting good. Logan and Mary, stay here. I'll handle this." With that, I went to Helen's room, my wife.
As I opened the door, I said cheerfully, "Honey, I'm home!" As soon as I finished, I saw a glass of wine being thrown against the wall.
"You bastard, how can you do this to me again? I've forgiven you so many times, but this time is the last straw!" Helen said, tears streaming down her face.
"Honey, I don't know what you're talking about." As I said this, she got even angrier and tried to hit me.
"You bastard, you know very well what I'm talking about! Everyone already knows you were with the model Amber. You know what? Enough! This is the last straw!" She quickly grabbed her purse and headed for the door, but before closing it, she said her last words:
"You can have as many women as you want, but with that attitude, you'll die alone, because the only person who truly loved you was me." She then slammed the door shut.
Her speech about love and betrayal was… tedious. The final threat, "you'll die alone." But when the door slammed, the silence that remained was peaceful. Alone? I'm adored by millions. Love? A useless concept.
Contrary to what I expected, I felt absolutely nothing with that breakup. Even though it was just a façade to keep the image of a family man on social media, she still said she loved me. Well, I'll never know if it was true or not.
Honestly, I only have a year of life left to keep tasting just one dish.
Heading to my office as if nothing had happened, I found Mary there with a worried look.
"Sorry, sir. I saw the madam leaving in tears and…" Before she finished, I interrupted:
"Don't worry about these secondary matters. Just handle the divorce paperwork and bring me the latest news about my image."
"Okay, sir. Well, the latest news is about the runner who had a heart attack in one of the races you organized, the failed expedition where you took 32 people up a mountain and ended up being indicted as a suspect for privileged homicide, as well as for racketeering and bank fraud, accused of stealing more than twenty thousand…"
"As for the bank fraud, post on my social media that it's a lie and that if they 'think' I stole, just send me the bank account and I'll send the money. For the guy who died running, make a commemorative sneaker and sell it for a thousand bucks. For the rest, claim lack of evidence."
Mary wrote everything down, admiration replacing concern. "Don't forget, your lecture today will be the biggest in history and will break all the records of your previous lectures, sir."
"Good job. When I finish the lecture tonight, you'll get a reward."
"Sir, don't say such embarrassing things." Mary put her hand on her face to hide her blushing look.
Soon the day ended quickly and I was in the car heading to my lecture. On the way, I thought about whether to tell the story of when I took control of a helicopter about to crash or the time I punched a shark.
While I was thinking about that, a truck came toward my car, knocking it off the road and making it crash into the bushes.
"Sir, are you okay?" Logan said, trying to protect me from the collision.
He was in bad shape, but still remained composed as we got out of the car. The driver, nervous, got out cursing the other driver who hit our car.
"You bastards, where did you learn to drive? Let's…" Before he could finish, a hidden person, with a hatchet, cut off my driver's head.
"Damn, it's an ambush! Young master, our best chance of survival is to run into the forest!"
After the shock of seeing the driver's head fall on the asphalt, fear tried to take over, but was quickly replaced by anger.
Who dared? Who dared to interrupt my night of glory?
Thoughts of how to make them pay for their crimes were intense, but seeing more people with their faces covered surrounding the highway, I decided to run into the forest.
Meanwhile, I heard gunshots coming from behind. Unfortunately, Logan's chances of survival were nil, even with a gun. What a waste of a good employee.
As I ran, my suit became deplorable and my lack of physical fitness proved to be a hindrance.
It didn't take long for me to be surrounded. Among them appeared who seemed to be the leader.
The supposed leader stopped in front of me, the hatchet dripping with Logan's blood.
"The false prophet," he growled, his voice distorted by the cloth. "Today, you will meet your true god."
Before I could answer, I was hit on the back of the neck by the back of the hatchet and my vision faded.
When I woke up, I was tied up in a circle of blood, with several strange symbols.
"It looks like our false prophet has woken up," said the leader with the distorted voice.
"Rejoice, mortal. It seems our god, after decades of silence, has requested a new chosen one." Pausing, he continued: "We won't give too many details so as not to spoil the fun, but, for your cunning and innate ability to lead followers, we chose you to be the new chosen one."
Hearing such nonsense and seeing that it was impossible to get anything useful from those cultists, I voiced my thoughts:
"God? I don't care about your imaginary god. If there's anything close to a god, it's me. When they find out I'm gone, you'll be wiped from this planet."
Before I could continue, they started chanting something as the leader approached with a dagger, as if in slow motion.
At that moment, a bright light began to shine in the blood circle.
The only thing dominating my mind was the overwhelming fear of death.
Which only ceased when my throat was cut.
"Let the will of &#%@ be done, brothers."
As if all that were a lie, I calmly opened my eyes and realized I was in a room full of blood and dead people.
Looking in the mirror, I saw my own body—but something was different. It was as if I occupied a body that was mine and, at the same time, wasn't. The strangeness was deep, but I soon understood: I had been given a second chance to live, to make the most of this life.
Before I could celebrate, a devastating headache exploded in my mind.
"AHHHHHHHHH!"—unable to bear the pain, I screamed with all my might.
It was as if something essential was fading inside me, as if the death I had just experienced was coming back to claim me.
"Damn! Damn! I can't die here again. I haven't even taken advantage of my second chance!"
I fell to the floor, eyes empty and mouth open, feeling my consciousness slip away. The silence in the room was absolute, broken only by the dripping of blood.
Hours later, the body that seemed dead calmly stood up. In its eyes, there was something new and unknown. When it finally stood up, a sinister smile spread across its face.
"A second chance, indeed. But not for you."