On The Line

I would have expected to see a lot of things. I thought maybe my life would flash before my eyes. Or maybe I would have an out of body experience. Any moment the darkness would vanish and I’d be standing next to Mike, watching him cry over me, begging me to live, trying to save me. And I’d have to attempt to comfort him even though he wouldn’t be able to see me. And Jenna and Kyle would be right there next to him. Or maybe I’d see all the people I cared about. Or even a vision of the future. Yes, maybe I’d see myself in thirty years. Or I’d get the answers to how to beat the government and get the hell out of America without being electrocuted to death. That would be cool. No scratch that! That would be freaking awesome! And then I’d wake up and be perfectly fine. That would be nice. Or maybe simply have some dream about Mike and me walking hand in hand down the beach. There’d be a sunset in the background. The sand would be warm under our feet. Waves from the ocean would be crashing down as high-tide hit. Even that would have been preferred. But no. None of that happened. Instead I found myself panicking when I stood in the middle of a room that was completely white. The white walls were so overpowering. Especially after the darkness had literally just been invading my eyes. It had been so dark that I could barely see a thing. And now it was so bright that I was nearly blinded. There was nothing; absolutely nothing… except for a chair that sat on the other the side of the room; the room that seemed to go on forever.