I've Died Before! Have You?

This was the worst death I had suffered since I first started remembering things at fourteen.

That day, I watched with my own eyes as someone cut me open, slice by slice, and I couldn't stop them.

My soul slipped from my body. I reached out with a phantom hand, but it could only pass through the blurred figure.

Beneath the bright surgical lights, my blood mingled with the dark brown stains.

The scalpel in his (her) hand glinted coldly, reflecting a sick smile as the person muttered to themself again and again.

"They... you... special... with my own hands... come and see!"

I passed through the operating table to the other side, but I still couldn't make out the person's face. It was as if something was muddling my consciousness.

Helpless, I instinctively drifted toward the apartment I rented. I could only turn to the person I trusted most for help, so I could come back to life.

"Three days! I only have three days! You're the only one who can help me now!"