The following story is completely fictional. If the characters contained within bear any resemblance to persons real or imagined, you should seek therapy because clearly there's something wrong in your head.
This is how it ends.
There is a cloudy, impenetrable darkness that slowly envelopes you. It immobilizes you and right when the fear begins clenching your chest and tightening your throat, you feel your body relax. The fear washes over you like a tidal wave. It is formidable. Intense.
And then it is gone.
The darkness is no longer cloudy or murky. It is black and absolute.
If life is classified and categorized into unforgettable moments worth living, this is by definition the most poignant.
In the end, there is nothing. And there are no words to describe the sensation of being enveloped by this blackness, losing all sense of your body and, in the very last moments, feeling your consciousness slip away from you ... forever.
When my cell phone vibrated in my pocket, I knew right away that it wasn't going to be good. It's not that I had any ethereal precognition of what was to come, no, I simply never got any phone calls or text messages on my personal phone.
I stay busy enough, no doubt, but the vast majority of my incoming communication is through email. And my email comes through on my work Blackberry, not my personal phone.
I fished the phone out of my pocket and read the text message. It was from my sister, Haley. She had written: "Theres been an accident. Call asap."