Seven Day Writing Challenge Day Seven a Soul’s Seven Day Farewell Journey
Luna Tian
If, at the end of life, the soul truly exists, and God grants me seven days to gently look back at the world before I leave for good—how would I spend that time?
Who would find my departure the hardest to bear? This question is not difficult to answer. The first person who comes to mind is my partner. He has watched many people disappear from his life, and each departure left deep scars in his heart. Because of that, he often sees life as fragile and fleeting. If I truly had to say goodbye, leaving him to face it all alone—that would be a weight too heavy for him to carry. I know he would struggle to accept my passing, just as I would struggle with the thought of making him endure another loss.
Next would be my mother and sister—two of the most gentle women in my life. They raised me with endless patience and love, and accompanied me through every step of growing up. I often think about those summer nights when we lay side by side, counting stars, telling stories, and sharing slices of watermelon. Since I left home, we’ve been apart for a long time. I miss them deeply, perhaps just as much as they miss me. That kind of love transcends distance—it feels infinite.
Then there are my friends—those who have walked with me through different chapters of life. My university classmates, the juniors from my master’s program, my dinner team, the teachers who encouraged me so much during graduate school, and my Nigerian friend with whom I share heartfelt conversations here. I know they, too, would find my absence difficult. We check in with each other weekly, sharing bits of joy and sorrow. In their eyes, I will always be their Luna—someone warm, hopeful, and constant.
If souls do exist, I would want to tell them: we are not truly separated. We just can’t hold each other for now. I’ll be the one who arrives early among the stars, sitting quietly on the moon, waiting. I’ll ride the constellations and wander the cosmos. Whenever you miss me, just close your eyes and call my name in your heart. I promise, I will hear you. I’ll cross the vast galaxies to return to your side and silently watch over you.
During these seven days, if I could enter people’s dreams, the first would be my mother’s. I’d check to see if she’s doing okay, and if the little cat we raised together is growing up healthy. In her dream, I’d join her for a cheerful meal at Haidilao hot pot, and then we’d go ice skating, hand in hand. I’d also want to visit my sister’s dreams and fulfill a childhood wish—to take photo booth pictures with her and her husband, order bubble tea, and eat salted crispy chicken together. Those simple moments of happiness from the past have become so precious in memory.
Then, I would return to my partner’s dreams. We had once promised to dine at the LEGO restaurant together, to travel to Switzerland and admire the snow-covered mountains. Those promises we never got to fulfill—I’d like to live them out with him in dreams. There, I’d smile and tell him, “Don’t be afraid. I haven’t really gone. I’m just on a long journey. One day, we will meet again.”
In these brief seven days, I’d revisit places I once deeply loved—to look at them one last time. I miss Hamburg, where I spent last Christmas. The Miniatur Wunderland museum was exquisitely beautiful, and my favorite bubble tea shop still holds cherished memories. I’d also return to Hong Kong—a place of my growth and transformation. Even if it has changed greatly, I’d still like to see its familiar corners once more. I’d walk the streets of Shanghai again, go to the theater at Metro City, and watch Secret Love in Peach Blossom Land. If I had to choose one final stop for my soul on Earth, I think it would be Malmö. I love the food, the multicultural atmosphere, and most of all, the lights that shimmer across the city at night. In this gentle country, I’d quietly mark the end of an extraordinary life.
Before leaving, I’d want to witness my loved ones gradually returning to their lives. I imagine my friends, my family, and my partner visiting my grave, sitting with me, talking for a while, and then slowly moving on. Perhaps my family would gather to play mahjong again, lighthearted and joyful as always. My partner would return to the games he loves. Our little cat would grow up healthy and happy—and I would watch it all from afar, smiling in peace.
Still, my greatest wish is to witness the world becoming a better place. I want to see real democracy and press freedom realized in China, to see my journalist friends regain their liberty. I hope those who made mistakes can own up to them and sincerely apologize, that the country can reclaim its dignity and fulfill its responsibilities. I hope good people no longer suffer, and those in exile can return home in peace. I wish for an end to war—for Ukraine and Gaza to find peace, and for wrongdoers to be held accountable. I want people to return to their loved ones, and for justice to prevail over evil. I wish for the world to return to the peace and order it deserves.
Looking back on my brief life, what I’m proudest of is never betraying my inner sense of justice. No matter what hardship I faced, I always confronted it with courage. I want to tell those who cannot bear to lose me: to bravely do what you believe is right is the greatest kind of happiness. That kind of conviction can ease much of the pain life brings.
And I want to remind them that as long as memory remains, we are never truly apart. Remember me. Remember every moment we shared. As long as I live in your memories, I will never be gone.
Life is short, but love and memory can last forever.
I’ll ride the stars, wandering through the universe, always watching over you.
Please believe in me, just as I once believed in you. ❤️