Some people may disagree, but I think death is important. It makes us who we are, motivates our core, shakes us and stands us back up. It will always be a part of who we are, inevaidable, everlasting, always.
Regardless of how much money or fame or worn bedsheets you have, the edges of death with poke closer and closer till dressing and folding you neatly inside.
And maybe your children will miss you, if you were a good mom, a good dad. Maybe your parents or siblings.
Maybe you'll go quietly without a single soul to say goodbye, without a man or woman to love you, without a last kiss to show you that someone really did care.
The maybes of death.
Oh, there are many of them, yes, but in those many are the truly scary maybes.
Like, what if I deserved to die? What if I deserve to be alone when everything just... Stops.
Thinking back on everything now, I wish I could've been there when they died, even if they still would have died.
Thinking back on it niw, I often ask if maybe I could have stopped it.
Deep down, I know I could've. For both of them.
Maybe it's my fault that they're dead.
And maybe I should be dead too.
YOU ARE READING
Until I Break
Teen Fiction"How long will you keep doing this?" I demanded, a sudden rage filling me. His pale blue eyes looked up at me. I froze. I could see my brother in him. I could see my brother. Harris was long gone after the sirens had gone off, which made sense. He...
