All say, “How hard it is that we have to die” – a strange complaint to come from the mouths of people who have had to live. ~ Mark Twain

“Death,” he began, “is a part of one’s life. It is the main point of one’s personal story which has been developping for years. It may be true that your future lies in your proper hands.
     However, you have to remind yourself from time to time, that you do not know when your last hour has come. You could die tomorrow or in 50 years’ time. You have no clue when your last chapter will end. Sure is, that it will.
     So, enjoy your life like you would enjoy a thrilling novel. Rejoice the terrible experiences you have to make, they might open your eyes and give you the possibility to ameliorate your life.
     Let others take part in your story, even when they claim that they despise you. Who knows? It is possible that your arch-enemy only hates you, because he or she only sees something special in you. The important thing is that you should integrate them in your life. You see? It could be anyone, by the way.
     An old, gentle lady used to live there across the street. I had never seen her talking to anyone.
     Yet, I had never seen her without a book in her hands either. I did not know that lady, however, I admired her. Well, one day I decided to ask her why she read so much. She smiled and did not appear to be surprised at all that a young stranger like me asked her such an irrelevant question. She said that, sadly, she did not want to be reminded of her own life story. She added that she hated remembering that she had missed the unique chance to live and had lost every purpose for living. The lady made me think a lot.
     How could she talk about herself as if she was already gone? Into the bargain, it took me pretty time to grasp what she had told me. And then the day came when the post man told me that the lonely woman who used to live across the street had died. Ironically, when they found her dead, she held a novel in her hand called ‘As I lay dying’ by William Faulkner. Somehow, I started to realise that we are not immortal. Of course we are not immortal… But do you get my point? All you have to do with your life is to live it just the way you want it to be lived, which is not that easy. I believe that is what the lady failed to do. It is just that I kept hearing the same old story “Someday you will die, son,” however, I could never imagine what it is like to stop breathing. I believe that it is an important issue, which everyone should face. Death is a distressing truism. It makes me sick.”

I said nothing at all. I looked at his handsome face, and all of a sudden my heart seemed to burst violently in two. The smile he was giving me right now, was a harrowed one. Then he looked askew as if he tried to shelter from my looks. I observed how the smile on his face faded away slowly and eventually turned into a heart-breaking grimace. There he was, sitting next to me on the grey, cold concrete floor. Gazing into space. I expected deafening silence for some more time. However, he suddenly furrowed his brows and continued his odd speech:

“People die every day. One day it will be my turn. Hell, I am afraid of death. I am scared to death, you could say. It might sound extremely weird or far-fetched, but sometimes I think that someone or… something wants to give me a sign. When I fall asleep, I dream of never wanting to wake up again. It is so scary. Everytime I get up in the early morning, I am terrified. Something is wrong with me. I hope you do not think that I am going nuts… I have no idea why I told you this, there must be a specific reason, I believe.”

I put my hand on his shoulder.
He looked at me. It felt like he was screaming at me like a fool…
I couldn’t hear you. Why?
It can be that I did not want to take him seriously.
It’s a phase. Everyone has phases…
“Let’s go home,” I suggested meekly.
I miss you so terribly much.

On a cold day in March, when snow fell on the now forsaken and silent concrete floor, your dream turned into a truism. Sleep well forevermore.