I'm dead. Really dead. Not the "There'll be a twist in the end and I'll be saved" kind of way. Just dead.
I keep thinking back to how I died.
I don't remember how I died really. I think I fell.
Are you suppose to remember how you die? Or is that weird?
Is there some sort of weird rule of death that you can't remember how you die?
I feel like I can walk everywhere and find no one. Death is strangely lonely and empty. Am I the only one here?
I wish I could tell you what it feels like. But honestly, all I feel is nothing. Like a haze has been put over your eyes and you can't see anything other than what you think is there. And then you put your hands out only to find out that what you thought was there, really is something else. And that something else is nothing.
It sure does smell though. It smells like lotion. And cotton candy. And metal. And everything else you wouldn't think death would smell like.
Come to think of it. It kinda smells like my bed. . .
Okay I lied.
I'm not dead.