Meeting death was never a plan. No, it never had occurred to me, I'd be one to fall such a tragedy. Everything about my life was plan accordingly, and I held myself too high and never anticipated my death. Such a foolish notion as I thought while watching stars, mocking me in my delirium.

The cold radiated on my back, and the wetness of the blood flooding continuously. It was extremely alluring and disturbing to be fascinated, of being such aware of how death coheres for my life. The fascination vanished, changed by an alarm when the coldness was beginning to crawl from the tip of my toes, stretching between my legs, leading to a realization that was the most irritating subject I've had ever dealt. Perhaps it took me by surprise it hadn't left me any choices to make. I worried for a moment fear would consume me, but I guessed it was a mistake because along with my body drenched in blood, a huge regret joined me.

I lost my parents a few months after I was born, solely realizing their reality after a few years. The fact of I had only seen their image through a picture that was given to me when I was six.

Every single day of my life, I had to ponder of their existence, and it hurt to get such truth that it was impossible. Somewhat, I had ended up in a spiral of an endless number of possibilities of thoughts and of cravings. By then, it grew into a hole, merely ignored as years went by.

A very pathetic ending, I thought.

Despite the mess I caught, I have the high hopes to be united with my parents. However, there was a tiny of doubt if possibly heaven was my destination, not that I'm a full-time sinner like my murderer.

It had been utterly stupidity of not picking up a cab while learning there were desperate assholes come to seize advantage at me. He happened to be in proper time- just like the cheap horror movies I've seen from HBO. I was walking down the road after I resigned myself doing the financial statements. Unfortunately, my luck ran out. The usual ritual fell to places; He threatened me, stole the half of my money, then shot me enough to drown myself with blood, which it had reached to my conclusion he was totally a psychopath. The lucky part was the police car was nearby and heard everything but the unlucky part was the medics came late to save me from my last breath.

I supposed the twenty-four years of living was coming to its end, so I had conceded, letting myself be drifted away by the darkness that surrounded my vision, knowing it would be futile to fight it.

Time was irrelevant perhaps maybe it would ever be irrelevant when darkness is always present. I could hardly determine how many days or months had passed from the last time. Was this how my mom and dad felt when death ate them? It was shallow and empty.

The cold and the softness of the air had touched me once again, finding myself at ease and peace, despite deafening silence. I had indeed figured out for a while I was floating inside of an abyss, to an unreachable place where darkness spoke too much, and that it terrified me. I could only hope and pray for an iota of light. Unfortunately, none of it was heard; It was perhaps my eyes weren't open, or rather I might be in limbo.

The rush of liquid surged, feeling every wave of it on my being, and I descended to the temptation to move, no longer cared where or how it came. Because after spending a long time in the darkness, it was an instinct to crave for another sensation, and that mattered me the most. I kicked my left foot, a poor attempt to swim, but it bound my movements.

It still had me wonder where was the light.

After some quite of time, it abruptly became tight, squeezing my lungs to death. And here I thought after I had experience death I wouldn't be stranger to pain, but I was wrong. A blasting ache came out of nowhere, almost sliced my head into two. Oh! It stung unbearably. All my memories were flashing, from the beginning of my life until the very end of it; every image was rolling like a film, and I could only stare and wonder why it was all coming back. Along with the stinging sensation, an unknown entity was pulling my memories away, dragging it away further, and then smashing until it was unrecognizable.

No! But why?! I mourned as each image was dissolving into ashes, making me heart wrenched in pain. It was my memories I owned; I harnessed it; it was mine to treasure. I fought back to have it even the only strength I had was the memories of the picture of my parents. I admit it there were some unpleasant memories, but it was mine to keep, to ponder, and to suffer. So I fought hard to gain it, despite the tightness I was feelings making me miserable.

Then it all halted as if someone pushed the pause button. The wind suddenly slapped my skin like for the first time in a long time. The light was spilling. Wind flowing inside me and I greedily breathed in. But it all forgotten until I parted my mouth and cried without a reason. I wailed like a child and it was humiliating.

Light cotton touched me; However, I felt someone was carrying me. I wanted to speak what they were doing to me but all came was the stupid, annoying crying of my voice. I tried speaking once again, but the result was always the same.

I halted for a minute, and then suddenly my brain came to an earth-shattering conclusion. it took me as fast as the speed of light that undeniably freeze me on spot. I was a child.