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It was dark, almost midnight and I was still watching videos. I was watching funny PlayStation 2 startups, but I'm starting to regret that.
I examined my watch: 11:23 p.m. It was late and my mouth was dry, like a drought. I couldn't feel my mouth. I tried to ignore that feeling and went on with the video.
At the twenty second mark of the seven minute long video, however, I felt a tap on my right shoulder. It felt oddly familiar. I swung my head to the right to find nothing there—just the light from my computer illuminating the room with a few colors here and there.
I turned back to my computer, only to find the blue screen of death. Along with the blue screen were the big and bold letters that formed the words:
I was nervous and felt a strange sensation, as if I had butterflies in my stomach.
I then proceeded to turn off my computer, to no avail. Then the letters on the computer pulsed further and further out off the screen--a 3D effect. Then the letters faded away, as if though nothing had happened.
Then the letters came back, this time forming the words:
All of a sudden, a red dripping effect overpowered the blue background. Then without warning, I quickly got out of the seat. I couldn't control myself. I lost all feeling in my body.
"What the heck is going on?" I demanded.
Then I heard a cackling voice, laughing evilly as my uncontrollable arm opened the door, to find a red mist that seemed endless. To each side floating randomly was a floating clear cube, just rotating around each other like Ying and Yang in my dreams.
Then I felt something grasp my throat. I couldn't breathe. "God, this is painful" was the last thing going through my mind as I felt a piercing in my back. It felt calm at first, until the piercing lunged through my back. The blood that came out of the wound was tremendous—and all of it was getting sucked in the mist. Then the thing grasping my throat flung my corpse into the mist, never to be seen again.
How am I telling this story? Through my soul. I am now a soul just resting endlessly through the mist, waiting for an exit which will never come.