My head was pounding as I slowly opened my eyes. I inspected my surroundings. I was outside in a field, the sun gleaming, making sweat drip down my face. I carry on looking around and find three things laid out neatly beside me: a bike tyre, glass bottle and the Holy Bible.

“What is going on?” I thought to myself. I didn’t remember any of last night’s events. I was wrecking my brain for the slightest slither of anything but nothing came to me. I scampered onto my feet, momentarily falling over before quickly picking myself up again. I felt dizzy.

Since the milk bottle was empty and the tyre would be useless without an actual bicycle, I decided to leave those behind. I picked up the Bible and started walking, although I did not recognise this place and I had no clue where I was heading.

After about 10 minutes of walking, a cliff which gave an overview of a small town emerged in front of me. As I continued to observe the streets and buildings before me, I realised there was no one there. The roads were completely empty, and as I looked closer, I could see cars, but they looked...weird. They looked as though they had crashed or stopped mid-driving.

The town looked completely abandoned. The breeze from above made me turn my head slightly and that’s when I saw it. A plane wreck. I’m not quite sure what, but something told me I needed to look down at what I was still holding on to with my left hand. I lifted the book up, my hands shaking, and opened it towards the end. The corner of the page had been slightly folded in to mark the page number. I always do this when I find a significant part in a story that I know I’ll need to find again in the future.

My heart dropped as I read the verse.

“Then, together with them, we who are still alive and remain on the earth will be caught up in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. Then we will be with the Lord forever.” - 1 Thessalonians 4, 17