You know how they say that right before you die your life flashes before your eyes? It doesn’t. That is just a notion they came up with for books and movies to make death seem romantic. Here’s what really happens: Your intestines feel like a dishrag that’s being wrung dry and your stomach acts like a balloon when you let the air out of it
He didn't mean I couldn't leave, he meant I couldn't leave leave. If he meant I couldn't even take out the trash and had to stay inside all the time, that would result in a vitamin D deficiency and I would get scurvy and turn pale, wither, and die and he would go to jail for child abuse. So, I don't think he meant that.
What happened next… well, I'm going to blame it on the fact that I was scared. And I had just flown or fallen or something through about eighty years worth of Time. Or maybe it was the beans. I farted. I farted loud enough that it echoed around the small closet, bounced off all four walls and finally escaped through the open door. At least that's what it did in my mind's eye.