I am afraid of Death. I am afraid of the pain that it inevitably brings. Not once has Death not left behind a trail of suffering. I don't want anyone to die. The thought of never seeing them again is like a thorn lodged in your side, its always there, annoying you and picking at you, trying to produce tears and hurt. Death is not kind to anyone and it will never be. As I stand here watching Death run its course I can't help but want to die myself. Will Death not be kind once and pull me down to the land where the lost souls live? I do not wish to endure the pain of Death anymore, yet here I am watching it all around me. While Death has to be the cruelest, Fate is his right hand man.

Connor's warmth floods through me as he places his hand on my arm. He pushes me behind him as the British soldier raises his weapon to fire. We are backed up against a wall with no escape but the bullet in the gun's barrel. Death is here to take his soul and throw it in a dark abyss. Connor squeezes my arm and shot rings out.