I’m faintly aware of crying. Of worry. Of people, rushing around me. The world. Spinning. My eyes are closed, they always have been, it seems. It’s bliss. Quiet. Here, in the darkness and lightness and fuzziness of the moment between sleep and wake. The darkness lures me in. I accept its pleas for my presence. I sleep.

I wake up, surrounded by doctors, nurses, and my family. And Daisy. And Daren. Ha. It takes me a moment to realize that I have spoken the words aloud. “What do you mean, honey?” my mother asks worriedly. I laugh. And laugh. The laughter bubbles up in my stomach and comes up my throat into a hiccup-laugh combo. I realized I must be creeping people out, so I stopped. “Don’t you see? I’m dead! I let the darkness pull me in! I’m free! Of Daren and his…” I trail off. “I’m alive, aren’t I…?” I say. Then I see what a stupid question that is and I say, “Well. Yes. Of course I’m alive. I’m fine. Ha! I scared myself, didn’t I. I’m okay, mom. Really. I’m fine. I’m wonderful. I’m full of bull. But it is amazing.”