It was a perfect lift-off.  My house went up into the air slowly defying gravity as if it was a dream.  I sat in the living room watching my mailbox shrink, getting smaller and smaller by the second.  I feel almost nauseous like I had a cold coming along but then I get sick on plane rides or just of heights.  I take a quick look down at the ground and I see a bunch of police cars in my lawn in front of where my house once was. officers holding their guns up at nothing but as if there was something happening. Maybe a stand off? Heck I don’t know but i'm starting to feel like i'm losing control of my motor skills. My hands start shaking and as they are shaking I hear a rattling sound like cold metal against cold metal.  I look at my hands, my left hand is empty, and my right has my father's .357 Smith and Wesson Magnum... “Why do I have a six shooter in my hand?” is what I tried to yell but my motor skills are so out of balance that they came out slurred.  I just lose control of my entire body and pass out......

I'm slowing starting to regain my conscious. My house seems to feel like it's on the ground.  I look in front of me where I had be passed out and I see a bottle with some powder that looks like the bath salts I had recently tried about 48 minutes ago.  I hear police sirens and see red and blue strobing through the darkness of my windows.  I see my father's gun in hand and set it down and push myself up off the floor and look through the window to see a 7 or 8 officers holding glocks towards my door.  I have no idea what i did within 48 minutes or so but it must have been bad.  Like come on it's just bathsalts.  Who could I harm?  Obviously a lot of people if I had a gun in hand and officers at my door...
CRASH!
The door is kicked in and 3 officers flood into my house. I grab the gun and bath salts to hide it under my bed but it's too late. They told me to drop my weapon about three times as the slowly approach me with their guns point at my chest.  I couldn't drop my weapon. I was silent, still, frozen watching them. I was in shock. That’s it, i'm over... All because I wanted to try something new for fun.
BANG!
5 Years have passed and I’m in jail with a month left on my sentence for smuggling drugs and attempted murder. I got it off easy I could be here for over 5 years if I hadn't know my judge and my lawyer had sucked.
  “You have a visitor, Mr. Andrews, it is your uncle.”  said one of the prison guards.
I had sat down on the chair behind a 5 inch pane of ballistic glass.

“Hey long time no speak Uncle Harold... where have you been?” I had asked.

“I've been waiting for your time to come to an end because I have a job for you. I can't tell you much but all i have to say is there is big money in this job and i've got a team set up.  I will tell you about your occupation by next month when I pick you up.”

“Okay thankyou. You are an asshole btw for leaving me like that ALONE like that in my house after taking those bath salts, you know that?”

“Yea well sometimes you just have to leave things alone.  I told you not to take them but you never listen sometimes...”

awkward silence for a good 30 seconds and he then said “Look I have to go. See you in one month.” 
A month goes by and I walk out the gate. On parole of course but i'm free so that's all that mattered to me. My uncle pulls up in his pimped out 2006 Ford F-350 Amarillo 7.3L diesel dually with 438 whp and about 600 ft lbs of torque. All leather interior and its in immaculate condition for being almost 10 years old.  
“Are you getting in or not?  I am a busy guy, you can walk or get in.”  Snapped Harald.
I hop into the truck and he puts it into first gear.  The engine roars and the turbo spools. We make it to Harold’s house in about 4 hours. It’s about 3 o’clock PM.  There is a group of people sitting in his living room with the sports channel playing loudly. 
“Everybody, this is Josh, Josh Andrews.”
“Hi josh!” said all three.
They all looked nice and pleasant to work with so I thought would give this a try.  My uncle never actually specified what I would be getting into.  I honestly hope That it's not going to be another illegal job.  That's what got me into the mess I got in. 
We all got situated in the living room we all talked.  Their names are Jed, Connor, and Austin.  They are super nice and they all seem to know why they are here.

“Josh, the reason I invited you to my house is to steal a ice cream truck filled with a few hundred pounds of weed.”  My uncle admitted.
No... no.... NOOO I CAN'T DO THAT!!!
“No, I’m on payroll and I cannot participate in this. I must go home.”
I walked out the door and lightly slammed it.  I'm lucky my uncle's house was about 2 miles from me but still was too close to live...   I got home and the sun disappeared quickly as the moon had rose and the fireflies came out for the night.   I unlock my door with the key that had been hidden under my front door run for almost five years.  I walk inside and everything is nice and tidy just the way i left them.  I had my parents look after the house while i was gone for my time.   I looked at the floor where I had fallen over and imagined the scene over and over again when I had been shot by a taser.   and passed out right then and there. I feel like i'm getting nauseous.  Even though as I remember what it is like... I felt Happy but at the same time I was mad. Like I saw demonic faces in everyone that walked in front of me.  I still see an occasional demon or two almost everyday. 
I walk into the bathroom and proceed to do my business. I flush.  I look into the mirror, i turn on the faucet and wash my hands. i then splash cold water onto my face.  I look up at the mirror to see a demon reaching for my heart through the mirror.
But all of this would have happened if I wasn't shot dead at the scene where I was totally wired.  This must be what it feels like to be dead.  It must be the feeling of my my numbing as I lay in what feels like a rock hard bottom.  Nobody actually dies... You go dormant until summoned upon by I have no idea what...  I'm not dead but dormant.