[ WP ] You just had a very close near death experience . You are shaken up—not because of what happened , but what you saw before you were brought back .

Five fingers. The incomprehensible intricacies that compiled and coexisted to form these simple... five fingers. A hard, fast pulsing shook my body. The amount of adrenaline going through my body was enough to bring a dead rhinoceros back to life. All of these people, who were so cloudy and distant, seemed to be more concerned about me than I was about me. I presumed that I had just survived a heart attack, at least I remember thinking I was having a heart attack, before collapsing onto the floor of the auditorium. A little girl was embracing my arm, squeezing it close her and burrowing her head into my upper bicep. I could feel her warm breath on my arm. I could feel her pulse. I could feel her fear. I could feel her un-, until there was nothing left to feel. What was going on? Who was this little..sweat... girl... 
 
 A man appeared in the corner of my eye and awakened me from my infatuation with the girl. He was short, and well-built. He had kind, weathered eyes and appeared to be in his late fifties. He had graying brown hair and his hairline resembled an eroding shore. He was talking to a concerned looking woman, who was quite beautiful even with the look of fear and panic on her face. It took me a minute notice the uniform he was sporting. His blue t-shirt read San Jacinto EMT across the chest. This must of have been the man who, who brought me back. This is the man who brought me out of there, out of that room... 
 
 A truck. Slamming into my mind's eye. Utter and complete darkness surrounded me. I was in a room. A room in which I could not see the walls, or anything for that matter. Yet the knowledge of this room, that I had been there before, that I was always there, since I was- well... me. I looked down at my cold, shaking hand. This physical, fleshy, intricate result of millions of years on evolution and development was now right in front of me. It was right there. A warmth touched my cold, shriveled hand. A warmth warmer than any other. The small hand rested on my palm and up into the space between the base of my thumb and index finger. This was life, it must be. This is why I remained. Continuing to be Myself. And these two, beautiful, impossibly intricate hands. These two..hands is... is why.
