Novel & Cerita Imagine Dying Couldn't Be Me

Not a harp in sight, unless you're that way inclined. It's the ultimate in self-employment. A Renaissance fair writ large. Do what comes naturally because nobody really cares. And my place in this pantomime? I'm with the bureau of Mortality. If there's one thing I know it's how horrible it can be to die. So... so once I'd done my time in Limbo and... I won't say been healed because that would be an outright lie, rather... once I'd learned to stop screaming and... No.

another voice orders, this time closer to me. Someone grabs me, trying to pull me from the floor, and even though I know it would probably be best for me to cooperate at this point, I can’t force my body or my brain to obey me. All I can think about is that, if I die, I’ll never see Heidi again. I’ll die right here, and she won’t even come to my funeral because we fucking broke up. She might not even know I’m dead. For all I know, she left my office with the idea of never wanting to see or hear about me again.

“You are not dying on me again.” I wanted to tell him I wasn’t dying. But I couldn’t speak.

How would I look if I am inside a coffin, imagining Tim looking at my dead body, and imagining me- how I would die. Overthinking Number 1: Everytime I heard words like " I'm scared to lose you", or " Please promise me you'll stay", I want to runaway and punish myself til' death. I don't want them to get frightened if time will come I will depart. It's just...they deserve a life. Even without me. And I don't want them to mourn when I left- I want them to continue living life chasing their dreams even when I am not breathing anymore. Then it suddenly shift to this:

I can't die here. The fading voice came to him again. It had gotten weaker by the second and he couldn't tell what was going on anymore. **Let me go, please. I can't drown here… I can't die here. I ca–** The voice faded out and he felt his heart do the same at the last word. **Dylan.**

He came closer to me, shrugging my shoulders with his hand, almost making me feel nauseated. I was going to die? Why didn’t I know? I was just leaning on the railing thinking about what if I fall from here because of being too depressed. I’m not that stupid and on top of that my whole body will shiver in that ice-cold water. Oooh. I feel cold at the thought of chilling water. Even if I die, I at least want a good place to be buried. “Look dude,” I tried to calm his angry self. “I was not going to…”

And now, it finally caught up with me. For a split second closing my eyes, I saw myself on the ground, eyes wide open and empty. Thick blood oozed from my head as I laid dead on the cold ground. I brushed the conjured image aside. No! No, I must not die tonight! I wouldn’t die tonight. Not today, not even tomorrow.

My eyes widened as I patted my own face and the rest of my body. I'm still alive, aren't I? I can't die yet. thoughts in my mind. My tears started to flow, "I'm still alive, aren't I? You can still hear me and see me, right?" I asked him. "No, you're not alive Lee." "No, you're not alive Lee." I heard him answer so I cried even more. "What!? It's not possible! I can't die yet! What the hell are you talking about?! Take back what you said! If I'm dead, then why are you still seeing me?!" I moaned while crying.

He was saddened by the idea that I was already thinking of death and its disposition in my life at this moment. There wasn’t much that I could say in that moment that would ease this conversation off of the precarious ledge it sat on. Darren thinks he can save me from dying, ensuring that it won’t happen to me, whereas I feel like I’m already dying, I have to nail this interview tomorrow to build my legacy and through all these thoughts racing through my head - I can’t help but have one impeding thought that trumps the rest. I’m running out of time. I’m dying and I’m distracting myself with the potential of true love and I may be running out of time.

The only thing left in my body is my spirit, because I'm not dead yet. “3” “Dora!” Lazarus’s voice echoes in my head. “One has to die.” “Rig-ht…” I repeat weakly. “One - has - to - die…” “And that's not fucking me!”