I remember it as vividly as anyone else could remember something like this.

I was barely twenty, sitting in the ER waiting room, staring down at the bloody vomit in the little cardboard container they gave me and for a moment, things slowed. I felt a fear so strong that it was suffocating. I've never feared dying, because in the end we all end up dying, but this? It felt different, as if some supernatural force was trying to pull my soul out of my body.

It didn't feel like it was my time to go, maybe I was too young, maybe this shouldn't kill me and I vividly remember everything being muffled, like I was underwater. Voices, sounds, the beeping of machines around me. When the doctor who was overlooking my case showed up, his voice and what he told me was the only thing that was clear to me.

He said, and I quote, "Stephanie, you have severe pancreatitis, your chance of survival is less than ten percent. I'm sorry." Most people would be sad, or upset, but I suddenly felt at peace. Like hearing him say that was all my mind wanted to hear before letting me go.

I know my story isn't as NDE as others, but it was enough to at least attempt to share it. Cherish life for all it has to give you, because at any given moment, it'll be gone.