It was all too real. Autumn. The leaves falling as soldiers without arms do; the armed forces of autumn were invading. Just as school was getting ready to shift into high gear. The math test from the day before had been hard, but the essay was even worse. The full effect of pre-IB was setting in, and I was now a soldier committed to his county, a new soldier, one that would not soon lose his life. Or so I hoped. I instead died of something else right after then. I was the equivalent of a soldier stepping on the battleground and having an unexpected heart attack. I died I a fashion that can only be called comical. The death of me was the death that could have been later in life; the death that could have been painless; the death that wouldn't have kept me alive.
You see, I fell into a coma from an overdose of ding, ning, and swing.
I was dead. Only kept alive by what the doctors called "life" support. Because it wasn't much of a life. I remember an incredible lot of stories from the 4 days in my own mind, invented up by my own imagination. Here are some of them.
