I had not given much thought to how I would die. It wasn't something I would often ever dwell on. I can't say it's something anyone would be eager for.

It was dreaded by most, and accepted by those who were ready to let go.

Of course, those who feared it were made aware of it, but it was buried in the deepest parts of their minds.

It was something everyone hated to think about. That is, until we meet Death head on, in the flesh.

Death was an old friend I'd long ago said goodbye to, a friend I had cheated far too many times. I certainly hadn't expected him to pay a visit so early.

When it had crossed my mind at times, I'd imagine myself old, surrounded with those I love, as I passed on.. Peacefully.

However, death cannot be planned and it wasn't something anyone could control either. We were powerless to death.

Death is inevitable.

I guess that's why most feared it.

The mere thought would send shivers down any living person's spine. The only words which came to mind when thought of Death, would be Coldness, Loneliness and Pain...

Although, to some, it's perceived differently, and believed to be not as horrifying.

Death could be a beautiful thing though.

It really all depended on the person we were. Whether we were saints or whether we were sinners.

I was neither.

I went to Church every now and then. I hardly did any chores, and I caught on my fair share of trouble.

I was like any other living, breathing teenager.

It truly astounded me how wrong I was about Death.

There I lay, on the cold pavement of a rowdy street as people surrounded me. I could faintly hear sirens, the sound of my mother's screams and the cries of my sister.

My eyes were open, but it wasn't the face of my sister or my mother which cleared my vision. No, it was a young man, smiling down at me as he reached for my lifeless palm.

I barely heard my father as he whispered in my ear, "It's not your time just yet,"

I felt powerless in that moment as I slipped away, despite my mother's screams, my sister begging me to hang in there, and my dad who smiled down at me as if he still had hope that I'd survive such a tragic fall.

"Let go," the voice whispered.

And I did what anyone in my predicament would do.

I let go.

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