The day the world ended. Or, to be more precise, the day my world ended. I died.
I have never understood why people say that dying is easy or hard, like it's some sort of emotion. The truth is that dying is neither painful nor painless, it is inescapable. Inevitable. It only hurts for those left behind. The last thing I remember is closing my eyes and realising that I would never take another breath again. But after that, nothing.
And then I woke up.
