We all know that unlucky bastard who dies young.
It's never a close relative, it's just a cousin's friend, or a friend's friend. Name's whispered around for a bit, and then everyone forgets.
But it sucks when you are the one to kick the bucket. And it gets worse when you don't really die.
Let me tell you a story.
My story.
It was a foggy morning, and I was heading to my university. Everything was just fine. The birds chirping, the smell of fresh air. But someone decided it wasn't worth it to wait for the streetlight to let him pass, and stepped on the gas.
Do you know all of those movies, where the character is hit by a truck and flies through the air to land on his feet? Well, I don't remember much, but I'm pretty sure it didn't go that way.
You'd expect to wake up in a hospital bed after this. Some may expect to wake up on top of a cloudy carpet, with the heavens themselves waiting behind an open gate. Others may fear to see a fiery landscape stinking of sulfur.
When I opened my eyes, the only thing I saw was darkness. Not even a light and a tunnel. Pure, pitch black darkness.
And then it came. Pain. In the worst form possible. Like if my chest was being pierced by a red hot iron. I could feel like if I was losing something, like if my very own self was being pulled out of myself. It lasted for hours, or maybe just seconds. It's hard to measure time in the darkness. But luckily it stopped. I could smell the odor of burnt flesh, and that wasn't good news.
As I tried to touch my chest, I noticed I was actually in some sort of box. Or even worse, a coffin. A quick knock with my knuckles revealed it was metallic. Back to my task, I laid a hand on my chest. And I could feel something weird. It was like if there were scars, all centered around some kind of depression, where my heart used to be.
A voice snaps me out of my rumblings. There is someone out there!
I start kicking out of my coffin. It seems it was quite small.
Someone seems to notice me, since I feel like I'm being moved.
A lid opens and I finally see light. And a face who seemed to have been waiting for ages.
-Finally! You are awake!
Maybe I was just scared. Maybe I wasn't thinking clearly. But what followed will still haunt me for years to come.
I jumped of my steel coffin. To see a white morgue room and a flight of stairs going up. I made a run for the stairs, might as well get away.
-Where are you going?! Stop!
I just had to get away. Get to somewhere safe.
Up the stairs there was only a hallway. I wouldn't stop the sprint. Another flight of stairs. And another hallway. And finally, the exit. I was greeted by a open space, most likely a canteen. But I couldn't stop to look at it. I just saw a door.
There is people all over this room. Some lingering on the floor. Others leaning on the walls. But my presence distresses them. I feel like an interloper. But the door is too close. I have to keep running.
A pair of hands grab me, and pulls me to the ground. Then another pair, and another. I'm literally buried under a mountain of bodies.
Someone slips his hands into my clothes, trying to reach my neck. I don't care. I have to get away. I shout with all the strength in my lungs.
-LET...ME...GO
But only more pressure against the floor. They have pinned me down. But I NEED to escape, I need to run away.
And this is when everything went south.
I felt heat emanating from my own skin. I felt pure energy coursing through my veins. I had a vision of a flame. A pure, red flame, burning inside of me.
And it erupted. I blew up. It was like if a bomb went off just where I had been. Everything vanished. All glass panes broke to pieces. Even the people evaporated. I had melt the whole room down.
But I still had to run. I had to get to the door.
But then I the exhaustion kicks in. I feel like if I had just ended a marathon. My hole body stops in a sudden halt and I collapse to the ground. Everything goes black. Again.