Madness

The 15 year old voice was gone, replaced by my own.
My head throbbed, not as severe as a headache, but more like an injury. Pound. Pound. Pound. I could hear the blood rushing in my brain, down to my heart. I couldn't see, but I couldn't open my eyes, something sticky was holding them closed. I was afraid.
My body was pinned, from my knees to my stomach, pressure was there, and that same sticky substance. I wanted to scream, but who would hear when I couldn't see myself. I tried to move my arm but it felt heavy, and thinking of moving hurt.
Overwhelmed by the pressure that was being placed on my body I fell into what I hoped was sleep, and I was merely dreaming.
In my state of unconciousness I tried to put the pieces together. Where was I to feel this pressure, and how did I find myself in this situation. It hurt too much to move, or think about moving. Maybe this was finally it, maybe I had found myself in a situation where I could not get out of. Could I perhaps have begun to die?
This pressure wasn't just pressure, it was a blockage from agony, which I could feel. I embraced it because pain meant that I was alive. Wherever I was it still meant that I was alive. That is the beauty of emotions, it tells you that you are alive.
Suspended between life and death, with only pain keeping me closer to life I willed myself to open my eyes, determined to not follow a light if it did present itself. I would live.
The situation that I found myself in surprised me, for a just a moment.
I was in a car crash. And I was the driver.
It was dark, still, and there were no lights flashing on my dashboard. That meant that the battery was dead. I did not recognize the vehicle.
The other dreams came back to me in a flash. Could this be just another dream? Could this just be another situation that I have been thrown into? Or could this be the end?
No, the pain was too real. Where I was felt too real. It felt more real than wandering in the forest looking for my grandparents house.
It felt more real than searching an unfamiliar dilapidated home looking for a family that I wasn't even sure that were my own. 
The pain was more severe than joining a war that I didn't even know had begun.
I held more fear than finding the bear of a man torturing the poor souls in the basement and him finding me to bring me closer to death.
This level of uncertainty was with me and felt greater than when I fell into the servents home, where death was the punishment for all misdeomeners.
More terrified than when I fell into a world that I had no relation to and with its ending could mean anything for myself.
What was I going to to encounter next, was it death? Was it another life? Or was it another dream like situation where I would no know what was going to occur next?

The pain began to lesson, and I realized that it was because I was dying. There was no one there with me in that car, and darkness already surrounded me, so there was no difference when I closed my eyes. I let myself go, for if this was the end of the madness, then I would embrace it like a friend, a friend of sanity.

The stories all say 'don't follow the light' but what they don't say is that when you do follow the light, you don't follow it at all. You float with the light. A sense of peach envelops you and carries you to the golden doors that lead you to your next life.

This was the end, or so I thought, as the golden doors opened before me.