Literature
death in first person
Soaked in a cold sweat and barely conscious, I lay immobile. Blurry minded I rematerialize slowly while peering upwards through equally blurry vision. ~ Where am I? Where have I been? I hope it was a pleasant journey or at least a useful one. ~ These thoughts bubble up lazily from within my sputtering brain chemistry. BEEEP BEEEP BEEEP BEEEP BEEEP BLAckness.... My eyelids flutter open again as my heavily sedated synapses frantically fire about. The steady pulsing pitch of whatever was mechanically bleating diagonally above my left shoulder bore down like an anchor into velvet blackness, deeper I swam. The edge of the sound rounded, glowed like a light was diming and intensifying, turned by a dial. ~Do I hear birds?~ Concentrated power of will pulls my eyelids upward. Creeping, hands are on my body. Something, someone is crawling up my body and I suddenly become aware I cannot look down. I am paralyzed in terror. Sensory information begins pouring into my
