Celia used to think dying would have been painful.
It wasn't really. Celia mused.
Painful wasn't the right word to describe it.
It was almost a relief to finally let the life escape from her.
It wasn't scary either. Celia decided.
Dying was Oblivion. Celia thought with some satisfaction.
She couldn't recall how she'd died, only, that there was a pain.
A lot of pain, in fact, in her neck.
And then, she'd slowly faded away.
The colors around her swirling, and the voices slurring.
She'd felt a wetness slide from her neck to her back.
It felt something like blood.
Then, as everything got blurry, something in her vision snapped, coming into focus.
It was a ball, a ball of light.
Awed, she held up a tentative hand, uncurling her index finger to touch the only thing her clouded blue eyes could see.
A current of electricity raced up her limp arm.
And then a wave of darkness.
Or, what Celia called, Oblivion.