Dying sucks.
I already knew that the first time I died. It involves a lot of pain, confusion, and it just full-blown sucks. I did not end up like the stories I heard where the ones who experienced it and miraculously returned end up in some sort of paradise or a version of hell.
No, I woke up in a whole other world in the body of someone else. Well technically, I ended up in my own body, just the one belonged to the me of a parallel world.
Dying for the second time, I ended up in this black space and met with a creepy-looking version of myself who's as enigmatic as Leonardo Da Vince's painting of Mona Lisa.
Long story…
And now, my third time dying, I'm back to that black space. Well, it's not limbo if what that other me said was actually true, but instead in my own subconscious; a world inside my own mind.
"You're back." says a voice identical to mine. "Does that mean you died again outside?"
I turn around and I see him; the other me.
