The dark waves are crashing over me, refusing to let the air into my lungs. Despite my bitter state, the sun is shining, the blue sky and white clouds mocking my nearby death. I feel as if my own personal rain cloud is hovering above my head, laughing as I struggle to keep my head afloat. Out of the darkness I can hear a voice telling me to stop fighting, and let go. I can't, and as my lungs finally fill up with water, a loud beeping awakens me back to my bedroom at 6:30 AM on a Saturday morning.

I groan and hit the snooze button, then after a minute of consideration, turn the alarm off all together. I would never get back to sleep anyway. Kicking the covers off my bed, I slowly make my way to my computer. With a yawn I slip on my ancient headphones and blast up my "Awake" play list. My mouse goes up to the email link, sadly showing my reality of junk mail and bad quizzes sent by bored friends. It's too early to talk to anyone, so I decide to open Microsoft Word. A place I haven't been for a long time.

I could feel a story flowing through my body. I let the words come, eyes closed, just allowing my fingers to type. Until I can't open my eyes or even stop moving my hands. The story just kept going on, and on, and on, and all the while I can feel energy draining from my entire being. Like the life is being sucked away from my soul. This pain I can't take anymore and a scream escapes my mouth. Another noise overpowers my yell, and I realize that my alarm is still going off. But I'm not at my computer anymore, I'm in my bed and it is 6:30 AM, Saturday morning.

As I turn off the noise, I can hear an anxious chuckle come from my mouth. Bypassing the computer, I go down the stairs with my blanket wrapped around my body. My white teapot looks welcoming and I fill it with water, turn on the stove and wait to have tea. Glancing at yesterday's paper, I see something I hadn't before. A subtitle states, "Woman found dead at computer, cause of death unknown". Chills run down my spine, and I can't help but jump as the noisy kettle whistles to me that it is done. I get down a cup and teabag, pick up the pot and prepare to pour. As I start, I realize that the pot's spout isn't pointing into the cup.

Hot water streams down my body, and I scream at the burning pain. My hand refuses to move from its said position, and water continues to pour. It isn't running out, but keeps coming and coming. Black spots form around my eyes, and the pain just won't stop. But it switches from my body to my ears. The clock is flashing half past six in the morning, and continues to make a beeping noise. But what really gets me is the distinct male voice that says, "Aren't you going to turn it off love?"

I jump out of my bed to find my ex standing in the middle of my bedroom. "What are you doing here?" I try to sound confidant, but there is not mistaking the fear in my voice.

He pulls out a gun, "Just some unfinished business love, shouldn't take long." With that he pulls the trigger and I hear a loud "bang". I wait for the alarm to go off, and then I realize it never stopped. Another gunshot is fired, and I see that I have fallen to the ground. Blood seeps into my night-shirt, and finally get that this is it. I'm dead.

The next thing I know, I'm sitting in a diner, drinking coffee with an old man. But he isn't really old, and yet not young either. Just a sense of being and wisdom comes from him. His voice is both powerful and soft, one you could listen to forever, "So, you still think that hell is better than giving up your favorite pastimes?"

Something about him seems so familiar, and I was at a loss for words. There is a certain twinkle in his eyes, a loving look in his smile. I can just barely place it when-

I wake up. The clock says 9:00 AM, Sunday. Rays of sunlight creep through the window, marking an odd sense of hope, like a rainbow after the storm. With that beauty, I reach over for my phone and dial. After a few rings a female voice answered, "Hello, who's this?"

"Hi Emily, it's Jhen, I was just wondering if the offer was still open for going to church with you today?"

"Oh, of course! You are always welcome! Pick you up in an hour?"

"Sure, and Emily,"

"Yeah Jhen?"

"Thanks, for inviting me."

"Anytime, bye."

"Bye." I hang up the receiver, and pull my dad's old copy of the Holy Bible. I got out of bed and smiled as I remember, remember everything.