Arjen Anthony Lucassen: Lost in the New Real

Prologue

He'd been sick for weeks, stuck in the hospital fighting for his life and the medicine only working so much. He could feel he was getting worse. Every breath he took pained his lungs, his stomach couldn't handle solids or liquids so they had to put him on an IV drip, he was hardly aware of the days as they went by. A nurse came in however many times, the doctor came in occasionally. He could feel every time they touched him, but he could never see them. His body was far too weak to keep himself awake. He didn't even know when he slipped into the coma. It was only downhill from there.

It was a different type of dark that he became aware of and he could feel the icy grip of death grabbing at his body, his soul. He knew this would happen sooner or later, but he was still surprised when death came. There was no grim reaper, no angel or devil to take him away, only the icy feeling throughout his body. He became saddened. He thought of his family and friends that would miss him, who he would miss. He thought of the things he'd miss out on in life, the things he planned to do as soon as he got out of the hospital. He would miss his home, his dog, his job. And as if someone had dipped him into warm water, death literally warming over, he became relaxed. His mind was silenced. 

And he was dead.