Death Narration
By battousai24

Chapter One: The Introduction; My Story

I've never really thought about this before this moment. I've been thinking of Death, among other things related to this, so many times but never have I drifted upon this thought. You must be wondering what I'm talking about. Well, for starters, what I really meant was that I have never thought of how I would be after I die. Would I regret not making my last day worth it? Would I long to be with my loved ones again? Would I move on to the after life or remain here, aimlessly walking and waiting for nothing as a lost soul, in another words, a ghost? Never. Never have I thought of these things before. Sure, yes, I've thought of the ways I could die. Suicide. Murder. Illness. Accident. Those were some of the options, if not choices, I would die from.

So, from here on, let's pretend I've died. I've gone nowhere yet. I haven't even realized that I have already passed on. Let's try to start this that way, or maybe while I'm dying? No. No, I don't think that would be good. It'll be too dramatic, something I don't want to imagine because it would be unrealistic. I believe that in my deathbed, I would not realize how everything would be. So let's go with the first option. Let's pretend I've died…

Where am I? Wait, what happened? I… I can here voices around me. I open my eyes. Everyone is crying. And now, everyone is quiet. Silence? Why? What's going on? Wait… I can't remember anything. What am I doing here? I know this place. It looks familiar. It smells familiar. There are a few people in white coats near my bed. The light is too bright for my eyes but how come it doesn't sting them? It doesn't hurt. Wait. I know this place. I'm in the hospital? Why? I don't remember how I got here. What happened to me?

I sit up but I feel a bit odd. I feel as though something's missing. And I don't feel cold, or warm at all. Wait a minute. I don't feel anything. Maybe it's the anesthesia. I feel partly bare but I don't know why either. I don't understand what's happening. Why doesn't someone tell me?

"What happened?" I asked one of them.

"Hey. I'm talking to you. Answer me! What am I doing here?" But there's still no response.

I glare at them, each of them. I try waving my hands just in case they didn't hear me, but no one even looked at me. Now I'm really angry. Is this some kind of game they're playing? This isn't funny, Not at all. I don't like jokes like these. What's with all of them? They're making me nervous. God damn it! I hate this.

I get off the bed. I don't even think of doing it slowly. I just stand up suddenly and start walking towards one of them. They still don't notice me, or they might still be pretending. What do they think of me, a fool? Are they trying to make me think I'm dead and I'm now a wandering spirit? Well, they can't make me believe something as lame as that, not to mention stupid. I may be an idiot, but I'm not that stupid.

"Hey, just cut it out, will you?" I scream, and lifted my arms to shake the one in front of me.

My eyes widen. I tried it again but I still failed. What is this? I can't touch them now? Great effects. Are these just holograms or something? I look at the bed I was lying down on earlier, almost instinctively. My eyes widen even more, this time, followed by my mouth slightly gaping open.

I can see myself… there on the bed. How can this be? No. No, I can't be dead. I can't. That's just some life-sized doll they used to scare me like this. They just tried to make it look like me. But how could they have done it so well? I walk back towards the bed, this time looking down at the figure that looked like me lying lifeless on the bed. Lifeless? How can I even be sure that it was actually alive once? But I still look closely. The hair… it's so much like mine. That face, that nose, those lips… they all look too real, and so much like my own. I look down at the hands, and compare them with my own. I shake my head. No. This can't be. It's exactly like mine. Those palms that were facing up showed the truth that no words would be able to prove it was false. Those fingerprints, those lines, they're exactly how they are in my own hands, these hands that are in front of me! But how come? How come I'm standing here beside the bed that has me lying down on it? I can't be dead. No. I can't possibly be. But… I look so pale on the bed. And I myself said that the body on it was lifeless. But how can this be?

I walk back to the person I was trying to talk to a while ago, faster now than before. I tried to say what I had to say in my loudest possible voice. For sure they'll hear me now, I thought. I'll scream at the top of my lungs and they'll all look up at me and smile. Then they'll start laughing and tell me it was just a joke. That's what they'll do. I know it… because I can't be dead.

I say it. I shout. I scream and I scream until I could scream no more but they still don't hear me. This is it. I know I'm not dead. I can't be. How can I be when nothing even happened? Nothing happened. I don't remember anything. My memories do not betray me. Nothing. There was nothing. This is nothing. I AM NOT DEAD.