The characters, locations and events in this story are entirely fictitious. Any relation to actual events or people is unintentional. Also, the views of the characters, including but not limited to the narrator, should in now way reflect the views or beliefs of the author.
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A second note: Due to the circumstances revolving around the story, any character action or change of environment that may seem impossible, bizarre or even seemingly a mistake, was probably intentional outside of typos.

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A twenty-three-year-old man might not have much of a story to tell about his life and his experiences within that life, and anything in this particular story that has any relevance to my life is ambiguous and a far stretch from the truth.

My name is Luke Daughtry; I died last Thursday; my funeral was yesterday.

I don't know very much about my own death. I remember vividly laying down for a nap on a banal Thursday afternoon, and then of course I never woke up. The date of my funeral is only my best estimate, taking in consideration how long it usually takes to arrange a funeral after one's death. Seeing how I had very little family at the time of my death; I imagine the span of time between my death and my funeral was short in relativity to the average. Of course even this estimate is at best a wild-guess, seeing how I've lost all sense of time, and I have no idea how much time has actually passed since I died.

The nature of my death is also unknown, at least to me. My apartment could've burned down, a tornado could've torn through my living room while I was lying on the couch. There are other possibilities I don't normally like to think about or even take into consideration, such as being burned to death or being murdered. I'd rather think that I died of heart failure in a pleasant dream that later turned sour, but because I died at such a young age, I know that something unusual must've occurred.

In my life I was always an eccentric person, but this has nothing to do with my life, but rather what happened afterwards, where the beginning starts at the end, and death is only the introduction.