Was he dreaming? It was hard to tell. He felt alert but everything unfolding around him was surreal. He was observing the scene from above, looking down at a body lying in the bed. A rain soaked stranger stood over the body holding a pistol, fitted with, what Brendon presumed to be, a silencer attachment on the barrel.
As he watched the strange scene unfold, he saw a rose of blood emerge from a single entry wound at the temple, and trickle down the face of the body on the bed. It was then that he became aware that it was his face, and it was his body that he was observing.
The blood ran down his cheek to join the remnants of the splash of water, which only moments ago had awakened him, having obviously dripped from the stranger’s wet hair. The trickle of blood continued down through the corner of his mouth, to pool on the pillow supporting his head.
He suddenly came to the realization that he must be dead, and that he was experiencing what happens to a soul after death. He wasn’t alarmed or dismayed at what was happening to him. Instead, of the many emotions he was feeling, the strongest was curiosity, and as he wondered at what might happen next, he had an overwhelming urge to leave the scene and drift further away. However the curiosity kept him there and he knew instinctively that he was in control of where he wanted to be, and chose to linger with his family.