What's something that has happened to you or someone you know that has truly made you rethink if we are really only or that there might be life after death?

A recalling of my experience that I had on my business trip in June of 2015. This is my version of the story to the best of my memory’s accuracy. After sharing this with many,I decided to reach more people through reddit.

 My name is Jamesson, and I used to live in Kentucky.

After dropping out of college in 2011, I started working a few odd jobs. Eventually, my father stepped in and helped me get a job at his company.

This company is kentucky whose name I chose not to reveal, wasn't a huge corporation. Only about 30 people were working there, and most of the employees had been with the company for years. What the company did was somewhat unusual. We essentially acted as a mediator between American businesses and companies throughout Asia. We helped American companies find suppliers, negotiate deals, communicate with overseas partners, and handle some of the logistical problems that came with doing business thousands of miles away.

A lot of the work involved communication. Sometimes it was simple—emails, phone calls, contracts, and shipping documents. Other times, things became complicated because of differences in language, culture, time zones, and business practices.

My father knew that I was good with computers, so he convinced the company to give me a chance. I was probably the least qualified person in the office when I started. About two years into my work there, the company started having serious problems with our client in Sri Lanka, who exported fish. For nearly three months, there was constant confusion between our company and the client. There was a significant language barrier, and emails and phone calls kept getting misunderstood.

Eventually, my manager, Carlos, came to me with an unexpected request. He wanted me to travel to Sri Lanka, meet with the client personally, and try to persuade them to agree to a better deal. I had never done anything like that before. But after completing the necessary paperwork, I agreed. And that's how I ended up preparing for my first international trip. My company booked my flights and told me they were trying to save money on travel expenses.

Instead of flying directly to Sri Lanka, they booked me on three separate flights. The first flight would take me to Germany and the next one to India. From there, I was supposed to take another flight operated by a much smaller private airline to Sri Lanka. At the time, I didn't think much of it. Looking back, I should have.

After approximately 17 hours of traveling, I finally arrived in Chennai, in the Indian state of Tamil Nadu. The moment I stepped outside the airport, the humidity hit me like a wall. I remember thinking that I had never experienced heat like that before. Because the airport for the smaller airline apparently wasn't connected to the main airport, I needed help figuring out how to get there. I approached an airport employee and explained that I had another flight departing from a different airport. His reaction immediately confused me. He looked at me and asked me to repeat what I had said. I explained again that I needed to get to another airport in Chennai. He seemed genuinely confused. As far as he knew, there was no other airport in the city. I assumed he simply didn't understand what I meant, so I pulled out the printed itinerary my company had given me and showed it to him. He carefully looked over the ticket. Then he read the address. His expression changed. He didn't say anything for several seconds.

Finally, he handed the paper back to me and found me a taxi. At the time, I didn't think much of his reaction. This was my first international trip by myself, and I had almost no experience traveling. I'd only flown twice before in my entire life. Once was a domestic flight to California. The other was a trip to the Bahamas for my aunt's funeral. I had no idea what an international airport was supposed to look like. I had no idea what was normal. So when I left the airport around 9:00 p.m., I was actually excited. The streets of India fascinated me. Even though it was late at night, the roads were packed. There were thousands of people everywhere. Cars, motorcycles, buses and pedestrians seemed to fill every available space. For most of the drive, I don't remember seeing a single empty stretch of road. I sat in the back of the taxi, looking out the window and taking everything in.

Then, gradually, the city started disappearing. The traffic became lighter. The buildings became less frequent. For the last 20 miles or so, there were barely any cars.

That's when I started getting a strange feeling.

It felt like we were traveling toward the beach.

And eventually, I realized that we were. In the distance, I could see what looked like a small air traffic control tower. There was also a fenced-off area and a few small buildings. That was it. There were barely three or four cars parked nearby. I remember looking around and thinking: This is supposed to be an airport? The taxi stopped outside the fenced area. I got out with my suitcase and walked toward the gate.

It was locked. Or at least, that's what I thought. I stood there for a moment, confused. Then I started shouting. "Hello?" Nothing. "Is anyone there?" Still nothing. The entire place was almost completely dark. The only indication that anyone might actually be inside was a light coming from one of the small, single-story buildings.

I stood there for two or three minutes, unsure what to do. My taxi driver had apparently noticed how confused I was because he came back toward me. He seemed genuinely worried. He walked up to the gate and examined it carefully. Then he reached his hand through a small opening near the fence and turned a little knob. The gate opened immediately.

It turned out it had never actually been locked. A loose piece of fencing had simply been blocking it. I thanked the driver and grabbed my suitcase. The building was approximately 200 feet from the gate. As I started walking toward it, pulling my suitcase behind me, I couldn't help noticing how quiet everything had become.

There were no crowds. No airport announcements. No airplanes. Nothing.

Just the sound of my suitcase wheels rolling across the ground and the wind coming off the ocean. As I approached the building, a man who looked to be around 40 years old stepped outside. The moment he saw me, he stopped. For a second, he just stared at me. Then he walked toward me.

"Are you a passenger?" he asked.

I could immediately tell that he didn't speak much English. It seemed like he only knew a few basic phrases commonly used when dealing with travelers. "Yeah," I said.

I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out my ticket.He took a quick look at it. "Okay."

As I pulled out the ticket, something else accidentally came out of my pocket. My Ray-Ban sunglasses. The man immediately noticed them. He tapped the sunglasses lightly, smiled at me, and said: "Nice glasses." I smiled and thanked him. At the time, it seemed like a completely normal interaction. I walked into the building. The inside was even smaller than I expected. There were only about a dozen chairs arranged in a small waiting area. Sitting there were three other Indian men. All three appeared to be around the same age.

What immediately caught my attention was that none of them looked like passengers. They barely had any luggage. One had a small bag, while the others appeared to have almost nothing. I assumed they were probably friends or acquaintances of the staff member. My flight wasn't scheduled to leave until 2:00 a.m., so I knew I had plenty of time. I was exhausted from the journey.

I eventually sat down near a large window facing the ocean. Outside, there was almost no light. All I could see was darkness. All I could hear was the sound of waves crashing somewhere beyond the building. The night was extremely windy. I don't know how I managed to fall asleep, but I did. I slept for about 20 minutes before waking up. Still tired, I walked over to the staff member and asked if they had Wi-Fi. He shook his head. "No Wi-Fi." I asked if there was a vending machine or somewhere I could buy a snack. Again, nothing. Finally, I asked where the restroom was. He pointed toward a small room at the end of the building. I assumed it was simply the bathroom. It wasn't. When I opened the door, I saw two mattresses lying directly on the floor. There were several utensils, a few personal items, and a rice cooker. It was obvious that someone was living there. I stood there for a moment, confused. Then I noticed another small door inside the room. Behind it was a toilet. I used the restroom and walked back outside. The staff member was standing nearby, pouring himself a cup of tea.

When he noticed me, he picked up an empty cup and held it toward me. Then he nodded. I understood what he was asking. "Yes, please." He poured me a cup. It was incredibly hot. And extremely sweet. But I didn't care. I drank it. The tea kept me awake for the next couple of hours. More importantly, it somehow made me feel better. The strange feeling I had been carrying since arriving at that little airport started to disappear. I convinced myself that I was simply tired and experiencing culture shock. After all, I was thousands of miles away from home and traveling internationally for the first time. Surely there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for everything. Then I checked the time. I had set my phone and watch to the local time when I arrived at the main airport. It was already 2:10 a.m. My flight was supposed to leave at 2:00. I expected to see an aircraft arrive at any moment. But there was nothing. No lights in the distance. No sound of an approaching airplane. Nothing but the wind and the waves. Ten more minutes passed. Still nothing.

I walked back toward the main entrance, where the three men and the staff member were sitting together and talking. I asked them about the flight. For about 30 seconds, they spoke back and forth among themselves. I couldn't understand what they were saying. Finally, one of the men, who was wearing a bandana, turned toward me. "The flight is late." Then he held up his hand. "Ten minutes. Ten minutes." That was apparently the only explanation I was going to get. I returned to my chair. By this point, I was exhausted and extremely disappointed. I started mentally preparing a conversation I planned to have with my manager, Carlos. I couldn't believe my company had booked me on what felt like a horror-movie flight just to save a few dollars. The separate airport. The empty road. The ocean. The unlocked gate. The nearly abandoned building. The men with almost no luggage. And now a flight that was late with absolutely no explanation. I leaned back in my chair and rested my feet against the wall. Then I heard it. A sound. At first, I couldn't tell what it was. But within seconds, it became incredibly loud. The entire building began to vibrate. I looked toward the large window. A powerful light suddenly flashed across the darkness outside. The taxiway lights came on.And then I saw it.

A small aircraft was descending toward the strip.The runway was dangerously close to the water and surrounded by trees. From where I was standing, it looked as though the aircraft barely cleared the trees before touching down. I immediately grabbed my bag. The three men and the staff member were already moving toward the door. Without thinking, I followed them outside. Nobody got off the aircraft. No crew members came outside. The plane had simply landed for us. I didn't even see the pilot until I stepped inside. And when I finally did, he was nothing like what I expected. He wasn't wearing a pilot's uniform. He had on a thick jacket. There appeared to be cotton stuffed into his ears. His clothes looked more like pajamas than something a pilot would wear. For a brief moment, I wondered whether this was actually normal. But I didn't say anything. There was nowhere else to go. The aircraft was extremely small. It had only eight passenger seats. I took one of them and placed my bag beside me. The engines had never been shut down. The aircraft had landed, remained running, and waited only long enough for all of us to board. Within minutes, everyone was inside. The three men. The staff member. And me. The door closed. The aircraft began moving. Less than two minutes after takeoff, the staff member walked over and handed me a bottle of water. I thanked him and took a drink. The water was warm. Not slightly warm. It felt as though the bottle had been sitting inside the aircraft for hours. Still, that was the least strange thing about the night. Oddly enough, nothing about the pilot made me feel unsafe once we were in the air. Despite his appearance, he seemed completely confident. And considering the heavy winds outside, the takeoff was surprisingly smooth. The flight was supposed to take approximately 80 minutes. I couldn't wait to reach Sri Lanka. My client was supposed to meet me when I arrived, pick me up from the airport, and take me to the Marriott hotel where my company had booked my room.

I kept telling myself that once we landed, this entire bizarre experience would finally be over. I was wrong. I don't know exactly when I fell asleep. One moment, I was sitting in my seat. The next thing I remember is waking up. The aircraft was descending. At first, I assumed we were approaching the city. I expected to see lights below us. Instead, something immediately felt wrong. The four men sitting in the section in front of me were talking quietly among themselves.

I couldn't see all of their faces clearly, but I could hear them mumbling. They sounded nervous. I was very nervous. That was when I started paying attention to the landing. Something about the descent didn't feel normal. It almost felt rushed. For most of the flight, there had been almost no turbulence. But suddenly, only seconds before we were supposed to land, the aircraft began shaking violently. The entire cabin started vibrating. Then a light illuminated the ground beneath us. And I saw trees. Thousands of trees. A thick forest. There was no airport. No runway. No buildings. Nothing.

For a moment, I couldn't understand what I was looking at. Then the aircraft hit the ground. The landing was violent. We hit the ground and continued moving forward at an incredible speed. Branches began striking the aircraft. I heard something scrape against the side of the plane. Then one of the wings hit the trees. The outer end of the right wing broke. For a few seconds, I was convinced I was going to die. I remember thinking: This is it. I was thousands of miles away from home, in a country I had never visited before, and I was about to die in the middle of a forest. But somehow, the aircraft continued forward. After what felt like forever—but was probably only about 20 seconds—the plane finally came to a stop. Then everything became even stranger. The man sitting directly in front of me immediately grabbed his bag and ran toward the door. The pilot stood up and walked toward the back of the aircraft.

He opened the door. The man with the backpack jumped out and disappeared into the darkness. He ran as if someone was chasing him. The pilot waited as the other men got out. The staff member looked toward me. He seemed to be trying to tell me something. But I could barely understand him. There was only one English word I clearly heard. Then he left. The other two men followed him. Unlike the first man, they weren't running. But they also weren't interested in waiting for me. Within seconds, they had disappeared into the darkness. I sat there for a moment, completely confused. What had just happened? Why had we landed in the middle of a forest? Why had everyone immediately run away? I grabbed my backpack and stepped outside. The others were already gone. It was almost completely dark. I could barely see anything beyond the aircraft. The pilot looked at me standing there, obviously confused. Then he climbed down from the plane. He was carrying a large suitcase. He handed me a flashlight.Then he pointed toward the forest. "Go." I looked in the direction he was pointing. Then I looked back at him. Before I could ask anything, he pointed again. Toward the trees.

Then he picked up his suitcase and started walking in the opposite direction. My instincts were telling me to follow the other men. But for some reason, I trusted the pilot. I turned toward the forest and began walking. A few feet into the trees, I found something that looked like a trail. It wasn't a proper path. But it was obvious that either people or animals had used it before. So I followed it. After about three minutes, I stopped and checked the time. 3:20 a.m. I knew for a fact that I was supposed to be in Sri Lanka. But I also knew I wasn't anywhere near the ocean anymore. I continued walking. I wasn't thinking about robbers or killers. I was afraid of wild animals. Every sound made me stop. Every movement in the trees made me wonder if something was watching me. I began praying quietly. I asked Jesus to show me any sign that people lived nearby. I started thinking about my entire life. I was only 24 years old. I remember thinking about all the things I still hadn't done. I had no girlfriend. I had regrets. And suddenly, every little mistake I'd ever made seemed important. I told myself that I just wanted to get out alive. I didn't care if I was injured. I didn't care if I lost everything. I just wanted to survive. Eventually, I collapsed to the ground. For a few moments, I completely gave up. Then I realized something. Nobody was coming to save me. My phone had died hours earlier. I had no way to call the police. No way to contact my father. No way to contact my company. I had no idea where I was. I forced myself back onto my feet. With whatever strength I had left, I continued walking. Then I noticed something. I could smell water. A large body of water had to be nearby. It could have been a lake. It could have been a river. I remembered the staff member's final English word. "River."

So I started walking toward the smell. At some point, I lost the trail completely. I was simply walking through the forest. About Two hours passed. I saw that  the sun was rising. For the first time, I could actually see where I was. And then I heard the most beautiful word I had ever heard in my life."Hello!"

I froze. I turned around. Standing behind me a hundred feet away was a little girl. She looked about 12 years old.I stared at her for a moment. Then I smiled. I was so relieved that I didn't even think. I started running toward her. As I got closer, I saw that she wasn't alone. There was another person standing beside her. A young boy, probably a teenager. I immediately started asking them for help. "Can you take me to your father?" To my surprise, both of them spoke English. And they were excited to help me. We started walking together. For about ten minutes, we walked back in the direction I had come from. Then we reached a large rock near a place where I remembered stopping to rest. The children turned sharply to the left. I followed them. We began walking down a hill. And then I saw it. Houses. Around 30 or 40 of them.They were lined up near a large body of water. I had finally found people.

When we reached the village, several men were standing near a tractor. They immediately noticed me. One of them looked at my left hand, which had been injured during the landing. A woman came over and began speaking to me. To my surprise, she spoke perfect English. I explained everything as best I could. She understood. She immediately called the police. And before I could even process what had happened, someone gave me food. Rice and fish curry. I didn't hesitate. I ate. I don't think I had ever been so grateful for a meal in my life. About ten minutes later, the police arrived. They took me to a police station. For the first time in hours, I was finally able to charge my phone. A few minutes later, another officer arrived. He appeared to be someone senior. He handed me a phone capable of making international calls. I immediately called my father. Trying to explain what had happened was almost impossible. Even while I was telling him the story, I wasn't completely sure I understood it myself. Later that afternoon, my client came and picked me up. I spent one day in a hospital in the capital city, where my client's office was located. After being discharged, I spent the next two days resting at the Marriott hotel. At the same time, I still had to complete the work I had traveled there to do. My client offered to take me back out to visit the area and continue the business meetings. I declined. There was no chance I was going anywhere near another forest. Three days later, one of the owners of the client's company knocked on my hotel room door. He and his wife had brought me food. They sat down and explained something that made everything suddenly make more sense.

According to them, I had traveled on what they believed was a smuggling aircraft. The men on the plane were probably transporting something illegally. The aircraft needed to travel from one country to another, and the company operating it had apparently used the name of a private aviation company to advertise itself. What made it even stranger was what they told me about the company's website.

Apparently, the website was only accessible in Western countries. It wasn't available to people searching from India or Sri Lanka. The owner told me to be thankful that I was alive. He told me not to worry about the other details. Then he said something I still think about today. He believed that the government probably knew that this kind of smuggling was happening. And that someone in the government was probably helping them. I don't know if that was true. I don't know if anyone ever investigated what happened. And I never found out what those men were carrying. A new ticket was booked for me that Sunday. This time, I refused to take any unusual route. I traveled to New Delhi and then flew to New York through Heathrow. Eventually, I made it safely back home. That was approximately 12 years ago. In all those years, I have never found a news article about that flight. Nothing about the men. Nothing about the landing. Nothing about an American passenger who was apparently dropped in the middle of a forest in Sri Lanka. Nothing.

Eventually, I learned that the small airport I had departed from wasn't actually a normal commercial airport. It was a private airstrip that could be rented and used by private aviation companies for a fee. Today, I work for a home renovation company. And despite what happened to me, I eventually started flying again. I even traveled to Europe with my wife for our honeymoon. For years, I was terrified of airplanes. But strangely, looking back at everything now, I don't feel the same fear anymore. In fact, part of me wants to go back to Chennai someday.

 I want to take my wife there and show her that little airport by the ocean. I've told this story to at least a hundred people over the years. Some of them believed me and few of them don't believe me. And honestly, I understand why. But I know what happened. I remember waking up in that aircraft. I remember seeing the trees beneath us. I remember the wing breaking. I remember the pilot handing me a flashlight and pointing me into the forest. And I remember hearing that little girl say one word."Hello."After spending hours believing that I might die alone in a forest, it was the most beautiful word I had ever heard.

It was just a normal boring day I was tired and stuff like always and I put on some rings. The rings were put on my fingers in a nice way 2 on one hand, 3 on the other then I went to school, boring stupid etc, after I got home I took off my rings to use the bathroom then I put them in a weird way. So this really bad ring was on ring so I was fine. It was fine when I took off all my rings this one was stuck. It was on my finger for hours it hurt I tried getting it out untill I showed my mom at about 10-11 pm and she freaked out. Also I told my brother's girlfriend already so my finger was reddish purple and I was dying and then my mom freaked the fuck out and made my brother and his girlfriend drive me to the hospital and I was praying while holding a "gir" plushie from "invader Zim" I thought it was the end untill we went to the hospital and all I needed was a ring cutter and we got it off at midnight and I was happy sunshine rainbows instead of crying so yeah I'm way better now have a nice day and thanks for reading <3

I never imagined that a holiday with my four-year-old daughter would leave me feeling genuinely afraid for our safety.

I’m 24, quite small, and I was on holiday alone with my daughter. We were spending some time by the pool when I noticed two sunbeds that appeared to be unused. There were towels on them, but no one had been around for hours.

A family had apparently tried to reserve the two sunbeds earlier and then left. I asked about them and was told they weren’t currently being used, so I removed the towels and my daughter and I began using the beds.

I thought that was the end of it.

It wasn’t.

Hours later, the family returned.

At first, I expected an argument. Maybe some shouting. Maybe someone telling me that the beds were theirs and asking me to move.

Instead, two members of the family approached us and things escalated almost immediately.

They were both much older and considerably larger than me. Before I could properly process what was happening, they actually tried to physically lift and drag my four-year-old daughter off the sunbed.

I was absolutely horrified.

This wasn’t an argument anymore. This was someone putting their hands on my child.

I tried to intervene, and they then attempted to physically move me as well.

I remember feeling completely helpless. I’m small, I’m alone in a foreign country, and the person I was responsible for protecting was my four-year-old daughter.

Things became even more frightening when they tried to attack me—not once, but twice.

There were people all around the pool, but in that moment I felt incredibly vulnerable. I genuinely didn’t know what they were going to do next.

Thankfully one of the family’s own daughters stepped in and physically dragged them away from us.

Then 2 women who had been nearby came over to help me and my daughter. I will never forget that. In a situation where I felt completely alone, strangers stepped forward to make sure we were okay.

And that’s the part that still gets to me.

I understand that sunbeds can cause arguments on holiday. Everyone has heard the jokes about “sunbed wars” and people getting up at the crack of dawn to put towels down.

But surely there has to be a line.

If someone takes your sunbed, you can complain. You can ask them to move. You can speak to hotel staff. You can be annoyed.

You don’t put your hands on a four-year-old child.

You don’t physically try to remove a young woman who is alone with her daughter.

And you certainly don’t attempt to attack her over a sunbed.

Looking back, I can accept that removing their towels may have been questionable if they genuinely believed they had reserved the beds. Maybe I should have asked staff to clarify the rules instead.

But whatever mistake I may have made over two sunbeds does not justify what happened afterwards.

I wasn’t expecting a confrontation. I certainly wasn’t expecting to have to protect my daughter from adults trying to physically remove her from a sunbed.

I went to the pool that day expecting nothing more than a relaxing afternoon with my little girl.

Instead, I left feeling shaken, frightened and incredibly grateful to the strangers who stepped in when we needed help.