As the snow fell around me I stood at the edge of a pond on the outskirts of some town. I had known it was going to be cold when I had run away from the orphanage a few days ago, but this was colder then death himself. It felt like my very core was frozen; like I would never be warm again. Which was probably the truth. For as I looked down at the pond I thought of the reasons why it would be so much easier just to get in the pond, lay down, close my eyes, and dream for the rest of eternity. My life had been like a sad poem that was always going to end with death. When I was small my parents died of influenza, I was alone for years after that and had to take care of myself until a judge put me into the orphanage after I had stolen some bread so I wouldn’t starve, and then finally a week ago I ran away from that hell becoming a fugitive. Now I have to decide between hell and heaven. The orphanage and life’s harsh passage? Or the sweet kiss of Death and being able to dream for the rest of eternity? Hell Or Heaven?