• "Do you fear death?"
    The question loomed in the air before my body, as if a sword looming over someone almost conquered by their enemy. But I looked down at my hands and then back up, only to say, "Have you ever felt the pain of watching two lovers embrace at the end of a movie? It's supposed to be a happy ending. But your heart tells your lungs to stop breathing for just a minute…because it will never ever be yours."

    "Do you fear death?"
    A question repeated deserves an answer. But instead, my trembling hands sat clenched on my lap, the blue ink like veins showing through the frail covering that might rip apart any second. "Do you know what it's like to wake up in the middle of the night to hear a song, just to remind yourself, you're going to be all right? Over and over again…until it doesn't work anymore."

    "Do you fear death?"
    The invisible chain linked through my fingers, and I closed my tired eyes, this time, hearing the impatience in the dark voice that came from the shadows. "They say we hide secrets under our pillows. The only secret my pillow hides are the stains of the tears I turn over every morning... just so no one can see I'm in pain."

    "Do you fear death?"
    There are two kinds of people who do not fear death. They neither laugh, nor cry, or make even a hint of a sound. They won't move, they won't try to protect themselves. They will meet death head on, maybe even with a hint of a smile on their lips. This time…I smiled. "There are only two kinds of people who do not fear death."

    "And who are they?"
    "The brave…and the broken."