It was the day before New Year's Eve. The weather was terrible. You couldn't even step outside without getting wet. But still, I remember being in a good mood. I was looking forward to the upcoming evening. All of my friends and I wanted to celebrate together. The year had been quite rough, so we agreed on just closing its chapter and starting a new one, a better one.
The afternoon I spent with my boyfriend, Chan. He helped me choose an outfit and color my nails on my feet and fingers. It was fun. I remember telling him I never wanted to lose him.
"You're not going to lose me.", he said.
After that, he kissed me. I would have enjoyed it even more if I had known that this would be the last kiss he'd ever gift me.
"Am I seeing you at Jisung's later?"
I nodded, and he left my apartment with a wink. Jisung was one of my closest friends. We always met up at his, since he had the biggest place.
When Chan left me alone, I decided to nap for a while. I had been feeling somewhat tired throughout the whole day. A little break was just what I needed. Strangely, I woke up with an uncommon feeling inside my throat. I swallowed, then gasped for air. I was unable to speak but had to swallow again, which was indescribably painful. Trying to move my head, I managed to perceive the blood that was spread all over me. I wasn't sure if it was mine at first. But it was. It was my own blood. My throat was cut open. Not completely, only a slit. Enough to incapacitate me.
"You're going to die."
A dim voice sounded through the room, all of a sudden. I felt panic build up inside of me. The pain was so severe that I wasn't even conscious of it. And although I really wanted to, I couldn't bring myself to look around to check the area.
"I'm killing you, Sage."
They were so close to me. I could feel their warmth.
"But I thought it would be more fun if I let you suffer a little."
Another slit. I tried to scream in vain. My lungs were already damaged.
"Did that hurt?"
Every inch of me was numb, except my eyes. They were the only part able to show emotion. Fear. That is what I felt.
"Can't you speak?"
They laughed. It sounded evil, maybe a little too evil. As if they were spiteful of my suffering.
"You know, I've been waiting for this moment."
Slow steps started moving towards me.
"Seeing you all anxious."
The next thing I know is that they stopped when they were right next to me,
"And telling you goodbye."
then piercing something so sharp directly into my heart. It took a few seconds until I completely lost my senses, and somehow, the last thing I told myself was:
"Think."
Then, I was gone.
I didn't understand what I was telling myself. Think about what? How do I even think? And of what use would it be to me? I am dead. But then I started to understand. I wasn't gone. I was just dead.
I regained my ability to see. I was startled. What had happened? Yet it was pretty obvious. I saw myself on the couch, lifeless. Covered in blood. With a torn apart throat. And I saw my murderer. I saw them licking the blood off the knife they had just killed me with, like a thirsty cannibal. They were skilled, almost veteran. I couldn't recognize their face. It was all covered up. It shocked me. It shocked me that they were as good at taking my life and feeling satisfied eventually. I wanted to attack them, do the same to them, I wanted to run. So I tried. I tried running. I couldn't. I wanted to touch the floor, but I just didn't.
"What am I?", I asked myself.
But the answer was written in the dark, where there was no chance to reach it. I had to find out. When I looked into the mirror, I began to slowly come aware. There was no reflection. No me. I wasn't me anymore. Me was on the couch without any sign of vitality. What I had become was nothing. I had become a part of the atmosphere, a part of the air, of the invisible.
"Your heart is mine, Sage."
It was my murderer. I watched them from whatever perspective I was in. What they did next was one of a kind. Bestially expanding the hole in my chest, they ripped out my heart, took it, then locked it inside a wooden box and left. As soon as they were gone, I succeeded at moving forward. I approached my dead self, without touching anything. Neither the floor nor the couch. What an expression, I thought. Is this what fear looks like? Since it was impossible to speak or get in touch with anything, the only thing I wanted to do was breathe. Release a noisy sigh, allowing some vividness to fulfill me. I quickly learned that I could not even do that. I was nothing now. Nothing isn't alive. Nothing is just nothing. All that was left was my soul. My body was dead, only my soul survived. Still at this moment back then, I wished to rather not be a soul. A lonely soul that was solely able to see its dead self in front of it. But crying was not an option, either.
This, is how I died.
