I lay drowning in the misery of choices I have made. I look up and see death laughing silently across the room. I cry to it “ come on finish it, kill me you bastard!” But death only laughs harder, and tells me “no, a different death awaits you, a death of all in your life, you will not die in body, but in soul.” I screamed, but no sound escaped my lips. I’m lying on my back, people standing around me, I try to look around, but I can’t move my eyes. I hear weeping, as if from far away, then terror takes me as the first shovel full of dirt hits me on the face, blotting out my vision. Then another comes, then another shovel full. I lay there for hours thinking “the end is close” but it never comes. I lay there thinking, “Why is this happening to me?” I know not how long I lay holding onto that question, though to the dead time holds little meaning.