The Death No One Saw

Prologue

The day I died was not marked by silence.
It was marked by her tears.

I remember the weight of that moment the way a body remembers a scar which never truly heals, only hides beneath skin. It was August 26, 2:54 in the afternoon, when the world tilted against me and refused to return to its place.

There were no flashing lights, no final breaths, no thunder cracking in the sky. Just the quiet betrayal of time moving forward as if nothing had changed. People still laughed in distant rooms, cars still passed on the street outside, and the sun still burned stubbornly in the sky. Yet in me, something had stopped.

To the rest of the world, I lived. I smiled when prompted, spoke when spoken to, and carried on like the boy they had always known. But that day, I learned what it meant to die without being buried. My chest kept rising and falling, but my heart, my real one, was lost to a moment I could never take back.

This story is not about the life I lived afterward.
It is about the death no one saw.
And it began with Eve.