Prologue
A story cannot begin without a past. Possibly, a present and to which ties into the future, for all of us. Why must our stories have such happy, tragic or dramatic pasts? Does that really define us, or is that just an excuse for what’s really happening on the inside?
No.
The real question is how far do we go to change who we’ve become, only to fall further into the darkness that seems inevitable to escape from? We live to die and we die to live. Today, tomorrow and all of the days ahead hold a new beginning when our closed eyes finally open, to see that sun rise, to know our heart’s beating, and to know how far we’ve come… To further this idea, WHY do we fight to live, if we only die in the end?