What if all religiouns were stories, and all stories were true?

I remembered what it was like to die-the pain, the fear, the doubt, and the unknown. Somehow I had cheated death once. Now I was about to try again.

I didn't panic until my chest collapsed and I couldn't breathe. I gasped until I no longer had a throat to do it with. I didn't feel like I was holding my breath - it was more like I had no lungs.

What if all religions were stories, and all stories were true.