AUTHOR'S NOTE~ Ok, I've been out of the game for a while so my writing may be a bit rusty. Feel free to criticize away. This just kind of flew out of my fingertips and it appears to me to be a type of perspective writing for my character, who will be at a later date (hopefully not a date too later) developed in depth in another, longer, and hopefully better written story.
Dreams Bound By Fate
The nightmares never stop. They prey on me in my dreams and haunt me when I wake. When I need rest the most, they come on with the fiercest of force. I want peace, but all I find is torment. My throat is cut and pains me with each raged breath I take. My mind screams out in anguish that I cannot escape. There is no rest for the hero, is no cure for living aliments, and there is no tomorrow for some people.
Life is the cruelest joke in existence; we don't recall how to live until we die. The purpose of life is simple but it evades us until it's too late for us to act upon it. Sometimes, often times, when we find ourselves becoming physically ill, and we try to deny it. We don't admit it to ourselves; the horrible truth of mortality, and it is then that thoughts that once brought us comfort now cause us pain. They bring on the nightmares.
Ever since I was young this problem of night terrors has plagued me. Ever since a foolish mistake of childhood, and now, only when I die will they leave me. But I can't die. Life won't let me. It's so irrational! Those who wish to live, and who would give anything to continue breathing in sweet air are always the ones who go. But those who would give their breath for the serenity of eternal sleep are the ones who live on. I have put myself in danger my entire life. Suicide has never been an option, though what I do is close to it. I put myself up against impossible odds, thinking that if I die then the people whom I leave behind will think that it was simply an accident; a tragedy. Something they can be proud of me for. But I keep winning. I fight the impossible fight and survive; I go up against narrower odds and succeed. Why? Why am I so God damn special?
Then I meet something to live for and the nightmares get worse. It is but another hidden and sinister trick of life. Old habits keep me fighting against unthinkable odds, but now I want to win. That's what scares me. It's when you want to live that you die. There can never be complete victory, for there will always be utter loss. I don't know how to express the fear I hold because I've never learned how to. Even if I did know, I probably wouldn't. No, this is my curse. Hide behind my cloak, my mask. Hide the darkened, sleepless eyes from view, and pantomime bravery now that I am more afraid than ever before. After all, courage is a mask worn by those with the most to fear.