I was trying desperately to talk to Ethan. I called out to him, waving my arms, but he just kept ignoring me. "Ethan!" I shouted, my voice echoing in the surreal landscape. "I'm right here!"
He looked up, his eyes red and filled with tears, but it was like he couldn't see me. "How can you be right there when you're already dead?" he said, his voice breaking.
Confused and panicked, I followed his gaze and turned around. There, lying on the ground, was my own body. I was beaten and bloodied, my limbs twisted at unnatural angles. My face was swollen and bruised, one eye completely shut, and blood dripped from a deep gash across my forehead. My clothes were torn, stained with dirt and blood, and my fingers were bent back grotesquely. The sight was horrifyingly gruesome—bones jutted out from broken limbs, and my chest was covered in dark bruises, each breath rattling painfully.
