A New Life

What is the scariest way to die?

He took my limp hand in his own. He brought it close to his lips.

"Your not going to die...," he whispered so quietly the sound almost disappeared completely into the air. "..not from this."

...
Life is something I will never understand. It is an anomaly. A path of twists and turns that can never be predicted. It is simply life. It is something that can never be defined. I was never sure, of what I wanted or of where I wanted to go. I knew nothing. All I wanted was to be happy.

I knew I would grow old. Grow old and everything that I would have done would then be seen so inconsequential so in-important, so pointless and small. I could predict how I would feel. I could predict where my life was going. But I could never predict this. I could never predict this pitiful state of life, would be a life that was mine...

I didn't know how I got here. And I didn't think there was anywhere for me to go. This was life now. This was the real meaning of life. A meaning that was worse than any other meanings that could be imagined. This was the real meaning, the meaning that was, that there is no meaning at all.

At least not in this life. Not in the pitiful life that was my own.

(First person, past tense)