That's when I decided to take control of the situation. I came out of hiding and called everyone to come out and join me in some glasses of champagne. If someone was going to take my life from me, they were going to have to look me in the eye. Everyone came out then and we started pouring the bubbly. It felt like a party and I began to wonder if they were going to change their minds and let me live.
Then the hit man came up to me, smiling (he wasn't holding a gun or anything). You're going to laugh, but he was Gary Oldman (I think I've watched Air Force One too many times). I said hello to him and told him I knew what he had to do, and that my only wish was that I wouldn't know when it was going to happen. He replied, smiling, then suddenly he pulled a Luger out of his jacket and shot me right in the head. I fell and just lay there.
I wondered why I wasn't dead, but I wasn't going to move. I was going to play dead so that he wouldn't shoot me again. I lay there a long time and at last a woman came up saying that she would "take care of the body." That's when I realized that I was dead. I sat up then and looked down at myself lying there on the floor as everyone began to leave the house. I went over to the hit man and embraced him, telling him that I forgave him and that I was grateful that he'd done it the way he did, by honoring my wish. I was genuinely full of feelings of love and forgiveness, and he became very emotional. Although he couldn't see or feel me physically, he felt me spiritually, and had to leave.