PROLOGUE
I remember the day Ifmen died like it was yesterday. The sun was shining brightly, casting a golden glow over the football field where we had spent countless hours playing, laughing, and dreaming together.
It was just another friendly match, one of many we had played over the years. But this one was different. This one was the last.
I kicked the ball to Ifmen, watching as he dribbled past our opponents with ease. His smile lit up the field, and for a moment, everything seemed perfect.
And then, in an instant, everything changed.
Ifmen collapsed to the ground, clutching his chest. I rushed to his side, panic rising up in my throat. Our friends gathered around, shouting for help.
But it was too late.
Ifmen's eyes locked onto mine, and I saw a flicker of recognition, of love, of goodbye. And then, he was gone.
I held him in my arms, feeling his warmth fade away. The world around me melted into chaos, but in that moment, everything was silent.
Except for his voice, whispering my name.
"My Knees hurt," he whispered, his breath barely audible.
I looked up, searching for answers, but there were none. Only the echoes of our laughter, our memories, and our unfinished dreams.
And the question that would haunt me for the rest of my life:
Where do the dead go?