I drifted in-between realities: between consciousness and unconsciousness, between life and death, between dreams and reality, even between different worlds. My mind was a black void, an emptiness that seemed to have no end. And as I slowly edged back into sanity, the void was there, trying once again to suck me in, to open up and destroy me once and for all.

Perhaps death wouldn't be so bad. Perhaps it would be what the others had said. They didn't fear death, so why should I? But I did. I did fear death. Death, for me, wouldn't be the heaven or hell of the Christians. It wouldn't be the Nirvana of the Buddhists. Nor would it be the reincarnation of the Hindu. It would be endless agony. A black, evil place you cannot escape waited for me at my death.

So, I held on to that tiny fragment of my sanity floating amongst the chaos of my mind. The only thought I could find was the one of my father before he left me. Those gentle eyes had been passed on to me, as well as the overall appearance. But that calm that rested in him. His acceptance of the fate that would befall him. That I could not claim to have.

I feared my death as much as I feared the death of the one I love. I know I'm selfish, but is it so wrong to fear pain? Is it so wrong to fear eternal suffering? I wasn't so sure of anything anymore, especially of how soon my burden would be lifted from my shoulders. I used to think that I would live to see my son grow as old as I am now. I had thought that I would be there for my child as my father was unable to do for me. I thought that this would be the generation when the family curse is finally ended.

I wasn't so certain now, as I felt the edges of my mind being torn into the endless torrent of black wind. I wasn't calm, nor was I panicking. I didn't just accept it like my father. I fought against it.

I gained leverage from my father's fading strength and strived with all my might to reach the horizon stretched so seductively in front of me. The wind licked at my soul, but I kept on, determined to survive: for the child waiting for his father to come back home, for the love weeping over her morning meal, for the friends that helped to carry on my legacy.

I would be the first person, human or not, to step back through the hole that sucked me in. I would be the first person to survive being trapped inside the void. I would survive!

I felt it wrap itself even stronger around my will, dragging me down into the chasm of despair. I fought and fought, but not even the most beloved of God could not withstand it. I weeped in my torment, sobbed in my failure, cried with my love as she mourned my loss, and screamed with the friends who remember. I swore to myself that someday I would come back. Until then, I would never stop fighting the pain behind me. I would never give up and accept it. And I would never lose to my own curse.

I would overcome it. I would be the first.

Fin

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. I did come up with the idea.

A/N: This was written while in Geometry class. It came to me in the middle of the test and I just couldn't shake it. It was like it wrote itself. So don't blame me if you don't like it, but blame my fricken muse. These days, it's far and few between when i get inspiration, but when I do, it bugs me SO MUCH that I wind up writing it down. Annoyance, hate, and happiness.

Sincerely,
Pray-for-the-End