[Congratulations: You Have Died]

Okay not exactly the last thing I expected to see on my death bed. Well truthfully I wasn’t expecting to see anything. I’ve never really believed in Gods or an afterlife or any of that stuff. Because if I did, some God intentionally made me this way and left me to this, heh, God-awful life.

I was born with an illness… look it doesn’t matter if I go into the etymology. Just assume that I’m telling the truth when I say I spent pretty much my entire life in hospital. And when I wasn’t in hospital, it was because I was too stubborn to admit I should have stayed in hospital.

Being ill sucks. It’s not like I had a long life of suffering. Or a short one either. Kinda middle-aged I guess. I should mention that the medical staff that looked after me were wonderful. I am in no way saying they are bad people who didn’t do their job. Actually it’s the opposite. They tried so hard to help me and probably lost many sleepless nights on a hopeless case like mine. More people should respect medical staff and they should certainly get paid more.

Anyway. My death. Or at least my first death. I’m going to die plenty more times. I know that sounds strange but you’ll understand soon. I knew it was coming. I didn’t tell my family. Don’t want them fretting or worrying. But I could feel it. That odd little sixth sense you have. You know the one I mean. Gut intuition. Premonition.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Hey maybe there is a God. Or several.

Still going off track sorry. I knew I was coming up to the end. I could feel it in my body and bones. I’d struggled so hard and I certainly wasn’t giving up. I’d hold out to the damned end. But my body couldn’t match my will.

So on that final night, after a nice hospital meal, I made peace with my sad little life and got ready to die. It’s actually funny, dying. Your vision starts to fade. Your eyelids get heavy. But you can still see everything. I know it’s not my imagination because I have aphantasia. No mind’s eye for me. It’s the same with breathing. Each inhalation. Exhalation. You need less and less breath. But you’re still comfortable. You don’t feel like you’re choking or anything.

It all just slows down. One last glimpse around the hospital room that has been your home away from home for decades. One last breath of slightly musty hospital air. And then it all stops. You feel at peace. It’s surprising that you still feeling anything when you are dead. I guess it must be the last dregs of energy in your body. Those last crackles of electricity in your brain.

And then those stupid little words appeared. My eyes were closed. I wasn’t breathing. My heart had stopped. And those words appeared.

[Congratulations: You Have Died]

I mean how much worse could my life get?

Right?