17: Wheel in the Sky
Dying is not what most people think it is-nothing flashes before your eyes, there’s no white light or what have you. The only thing I felt was pain, the blood flowing through my shirt and fingers, making them sticky and beginning to form a coat on my clothes. I couldn’t see much beyond the few feet in front of me, the sun had long such set and darkness had fallen on swift wings. There was one sound: my blood pulsing like it was right in my ears. Eventually I made it to the grass hill where I fell, too weak to walk another step.
While I lay there, certain I was destined to die, he came to me, and I was so convinced I was gone for he looked like an angel: his hair was golden, like wheat, his eyes were a deep dark blue-think of the deepest, darkest part of the ocean-and his smile was serene and calm as he looked down at me. As he whispered his questions, the first I answered verbally, the second nonverbally since I was too weak to speak, he picked me up gracefully and we flew through the forest, again convincing me that if I wasn’t dead yet then I was very close to it.