looked to him and asked if I was going to die. He looked to me
and said nothing but let a single tear roll down his face. I
heard sirens in the distance, a faint glow emerged from the
end of my road as if singing me a lullaby. I was warm; the frost
seemed to cover me in a blanket as I lay in the pool of blood
shielding me from earth’s cold concrete. Then I was lifted, onto
a bed and into the back of what seemed to be a final resting
place, a home. Strange men were poking me and putting tubes
down my throat. I looked to one of them and asked the same
question I had asked my father moments ago. “Am I going to
die?” the strange man looked at me then to the other man and
said nothing.
Death is a strange thing. We live and we die, some die
before others and some live very long. In the end everyone
dies. Some people look forward to the afterlife and some people
accept the fact that when you pass that is all. I saw darkness,
blacker then the furthest reaches of space, I saw nothing, felt
nothing. I was nothing. Then slowly I opened one eye and
slowly the other followed suit. It was a small dim lit cozy room
I could hardly move, to my left I could see a window, drapes
blinding me from the outside world I had almost lost. I started