Whenever I thought of death, it was like a looming tower in the distance. A frightening and harsh reality, a thought that only brought sorrow and anger into your mind. Death is humankind’s greatest denial, something that always came later in life, never something that was always a possibility. And so as lights flashed behind my eyelids and as thunderstorms shook my ears and my body, I was once again forced to bring all of my roads of thoughts back to the same place, back to the same barren and cold tower that I had always pushed away. All I found was nightmares and loss, depression and emptiness. I tightened my muscles, pulling me back to what was going on around me. I opened my eyes, only to see blurs and splotches of blood clouding my vision. “Please,” My raspy voice croaked, speaking to everyone and no one. “Please, don’t let me go. Don’t leave me!” I began to cough, my throat unable to handle too much strain. I felt a firm hand grab mine, listening to what I had said. “Don’t say anything else,” The person said. I was almost jealous of their clear voice, their strong grip. I wanted nothing more than to be like that again, to be in control of myself, to know something else other than pain and betrayal. “I’ll get you through this, I promise. Everything is going to be alright, I promise,”