What is death, anyway? Is it simply a state of being, or something more? I often find myself contemplating this question. Do you go to Heaven, or Hell? Is there an afterlife? Reincarnation? What? Or maybe it’s just like a nice long nap. Staying asleep forever. Peaceful. Does it hurt? Do you feel? Can you use your senses? When you die, do you watch over your family and friends? Does it matter how you die? So many questions, not enough answers. If anyone would know, it would be some kind of Medium. If there is such a thing. Most believe they are utter nonsense, but I reject that on the hand. People say I’m obsessed, but that is not the case. Simply curious, I would say. Wondering. Thinking. Why? Because I need to know. I need to know that those I love are okay after they die. If I’ll be okay. Nobody seems to be able to answer this question. What is there? What is the point? And I will be the first to admit, this curiosity is born from my own pure fear. A fear of being simply gone. Forever. I can hardly even bear to think it, yet it’s something that I think about often. When I’m alone, about to fall asleep. Or when I am eating, and thinking to myself. Alone. Always alone. Because you are alone, when you die. You are buried in a coffin, alone in the ground. Or you are put in an oven, all alone. Your ashes on an mantle for the rest of your childs life. Or whomever. But one thing is certain. I will not rest until I get to the bottom of this mystery. Even if it means dying of exhaustion. Which, is likely. This is kind of morbid. Why should I, a fourteen year old girl, be thinking things like this? You could blame the violence in our everyday lives, kids made numb to the idea of death because of war games and television. The media turning death into a spectacle. But I’m not sure that any of those are right. No. The reasoning behind my morbid fascination is a mystery. Maybe it’s just that I’m so messed up inside, I think this is normal. Isn’t it? Who knows? Who cares? But I believe I’m getting off subject here. Death. Horrible, right? Or…. Is it? Perhaps the only horrible thing is the aftermath. The crying relatives. The dreary funeral. The depressing energy that accompanies someone when a person dies. I mean, I understand what it’s like to have someone die. Someone close. Someone you love. It sucks. Life sucks. Maybe that’s the point of love. To find someone who makes life suck less. But, that’s for another story. This is about death. But I’m done thinking about death. I’ve been working on this for much too long. Goodbye my friends, and may Death stay away. For now.