Scarlet walls painted red, by the end of the day, all will be dead.
Death is a part of life. That is what they all say. But if you die, then how are you alive? Are you not dead?
Humans fear death, we face it everyday with the morbid truth that is our reality, we will die. As you are born you will die. Your death maybe gruesome, it may be peaceful, it may be sad, it may be unknown. Human's natural instinct is to cling to life, we fight an ongoing battle everyday in our lives, and on the day that we die, we ask ourselves "what is life?"
We tell ourselves stories of heaven and hell, to ease our fear of what is to come, in a desperate attempt to understand, what is life? What is death?
Why do we die? Why do we live? What is our purpose?
To Die.
At least, that's what Janet Andrews thought, as she lay in the hospital bed, her bright, green eyes, dull from illness, her olive skin turned sickly white, while her once long, luscious curls, were cut short for easier management.
A pity really, struck down in her prime. A cruel thing, destiny is.
Had it been her destiny to have fallen ill? Or was this fate's work?
It had not been time for her to die. 'No', thought the woman. She could not end like this. A second chance, was all she asked for. She didn't care how, she only wished for one.
She had read somewhere about reincarnation, being reborn again, into a another being.
That idea seemed pretty good now, in her mind. To die, that is what we are fated.
Janet Andrews had previously been optimistic person. She'd been raised free of the world's harsh judgement, to learn in her own right, what was right, and wrong.
She never considered that it would end like this, through disease. Personally, she'd thought if anything, it would be a killer, as her profession exposed her to such things.
Criminals, serial killers, mass murderers, madmen, and the psychotically insane.
Janet had known the risks of being a Detective, but it was still disappointing to see her efforts were in vain. She'd been a good person. She helped whoever needed it, saw the good in the cruelest of men, and never understood why others couldn't.
Now, she takes it back. Too soon.
Being the optimist she is, she spoke her last words.
"To die, would be, such an awfully big adventure."
Wow. This is, unexpectedly dark. I'm trying something a little different with my writing now. I want to explore the darker side of writing, so I'm trying to write a realistic take on a Self Insert.