• I have always imagined myself dieing in an ugly way. A sharp object jabbing into my soul, blood flowing on my very own hands, the darkness covering my sight. The slightest movement would cause the object to go deeper. Screaming would start to fade out, faces grow blurry, two warm fingers feel the pulse on my neck. A tear rolls down my cheek as I slip deeper and deeper into a death's hand trying to swollow me whole. I have felt this before, where, where have I felt this? I know now this pain I feel I felt when my heart was broken...