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The Night I Died | Juxtapositioning
It was late. I was trying to sleep. My heart beat faster. I couldn't breathe. My heart wouldn't stop pounding. Breath exercises didn't help. I kept telling my heart to slow down, to stop pounding. Take a breath! Now! Do it! I couldn't. I couldn't will myself to breathe, to live. I needed help. My heart felt like it was leaping out of my chest. I texted my beloved, in the next room. The text was garbled, a series of meaningless letters and symbols. rj3u92/, perhaps. Texting didn't work. I called to him. Surely he would hear me. I called and called. HELP, I said, as loud as I could. It sounded like hehhhhhhhh. I couldn't talk. Calling to him didn't work. I don't know how I did this, but I got up out of my bed and went to the wall between my bedroom and my beloved's. I pounded on the wall as hard as I could, with the strength of a gnat. He heard me. Call 911, my eyes said, between gasps. I told myself to breathe, even though I couldn't. When the ambulance came, everything would be all