The Worst One

So I've done it. No recollection of how I did it, but I'm dead. I'm not buried or crushed or struggling. I'm just dead. I'm lying there motionless in the dark. At least I think I'm lying down. I don't feel anything. I can't see anything. Total darkness. I can't hear anything. Nothing. No ringing in my ears and I think for a moment that even that would be nice. Total silence. No breathing. No heartbeat. No voice. I panic and shout out for help. No voice. No breathe to push the words. I reach for my face. No hands. No feeling. I start to cry. No tears. Nothing.

I think something terrible has happened. What has happened to me? Then I realize I'm dreaming. I must be dreaming. But nothing is happening. What am I dreaming? Is it possible to dream nothing ? I think it's time to wake up now! But nothing. I think WAKE Up! Nothing. I think. I think. It's all I can do. The thought condenses. I am. 

What am I? What have I become? I am me. But what does that mean? And the nightmare truly begins with the thought, "Who was I?" And I remember my last day. I was miserable. It was Mothers Day. And I was miserable. So upset with myself. Such a failure. Such a loser. Such a burden to those who loved me most. The regret. The sorrow. The pain. In my body. In my soul. I couldn't let it go. And then I remember like the breaking of silent thunder. I asked God for this. I wanted to be dead. I actually prayed to be dead. But I am. Everything is gone. But I am. No more pain in my back. No more ringing in my ears. No more asthma. No more headaches. No more anything. But I am. I try not to think. I try not to remember all that was. But I am.

And then the most terrifying thought of all. What's next? Nothing. Silence.