unknown: hey, what's the meaning of life, Jessie? me: Who's this? and first off, my name is not Jessie. Second, what do you mean? unknown: I'm sorry nvm. me: no, please tell me. unknown: I'm thinking of sleeping. me: as in??? unknown: and never waking up. me: woah, no way. i will help you. my name is Marcie, what's yo...
You never think that you could miss the little things like the smell of grass or the sun on your skin. The feeling of swimming or the sound of the rain. After nine years of my life are stripped away by a car accident that left me in a coma, I finally figured out how badly someone could miss the littlest things in life...
"He was a handsome stranger called Death." But what happens when Death is no longer a stranger, but a guest who occupies your bed?
