Manhunt

Introduction to the End

 I never gave much thought in to how I would die. It never crossed my mind and it never really hit me as much as it should have. Like it was unimportant. Wrong choice of words. It was important. But it just wasn't meaningful. I wouldn't wake up each morning and think to myself, "How am I going to die?" Because unless you have clinical depression, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't ask that.

But even when I died, I didn't know I was dead. Sounds weird, right? Because we all thought heaven was real and God was our savior and if we were bad, we'd go to hell. Because we all had thought that there actually was some majestic world we'd go to when we died. But, I didn't go nowhere but right back to where I was.

So after that hard ass hit on the head, you're still probably wondering, how did you die and how did you not know you were dead? Are you autistic? No. I'm not autistic. But I didn't feel death. I didn't feel that blade cross my neck. I didn't feel my body drop down dead. I didn't feel anything. It wasn't real. It sure as hell wasn't real.

What the fuck is wrong with me? It was real.