The thought of death scared me. Although it shouldn't, I knew my one mission in life was to serve the lord in any way I knew how, I knew such risks would one day end my life. Truthfully, I didn't realize I was dead until this morning, I didn't realize that death gathers you without emotion, it doesn't care for your wants or needs, it wraps you up and takes you away from the earth to find a new job somewhere else... It doesn't happen like most books or movies would describe. You don't fight it for as long as possible, it just sweeps you away. You wake up one morning feeling more refreshed then you ever had in your entire life, and smile over at your best friend to see him crying. And begging for you to come back. You try to tell him you are right there, but even you can't hear your voice. It's painful. That's how I woke up. It felt like I had been in a coma for years, only to find out I died the night before. When I looked over at Francis, my comrade of fourteen years, he was crying. He bit his lip to the point it was bleeding, he always said he would never cry over me. I made him promise that when I died he wouldn't cry. Part of me knew what had happened, the other portion didn't want to believe it. I reached out for him, wanting to be as comforting as possible, only to watch my thin fingers go straight through him. I was terrified. I couldn't leave him, he was my friend, what we had for me was certainly not love, for I knew and he knew too that all of my love and devotion went to god as I was taught and no matter how hard I tried I couldn't change that, however not matter what I still cared for the poor country. I didn't want to leave him. "N-no..." I breathed, my hands shaking. "T-this can't be… no…" my voice was getting more desperate, I reached out again and again. I wanted him to reach out and take me to the apple fields where we could lay down and I could forget.
"Jeanne," he spoke, his voice rough and hoarse from crying all night. "I love you, s-s-so much…" he glared down at his hands, tears strolling down his face and into his palms. "W-what am I doing?" he growled. "She can't hear me." Francis sat up and glared in my direction. "You selfish bitch. You left me all alone." He stood up quickly and marched down the hall way, not able to hear my calls and pleas for him to return to bed.
"I hate her." He cried out and picked up a knife, "I hate…" he paused and stared down longingly at the knife, "I love her… I want her back…"
I sighed and fell to my knees, I could hear everything but I couldn't reply to his endless pleas for me, I knew I couldn't save my husband anymore… I knew from the start that he was doomed to a life of unhappiness if I couldn't find him someone. Anyone…
