Aren’t you a Christian? You shouldn’t be afraid of death.

She shook her head. Not in disagreement, but because her muscles were spazzing. She made fists then opened them again; over and over till her joints were stiff.

“Can’t…” was all she replied. She couldn’t even argue in complete sentences anymore.

Death is just rebirth, right? Then you’re at the feet of the Maker? Isn’t that what you want? Isn’t that what you’re supposed to want?

Tears started to roll down her face. She imagined her family finding her body. She imagined the future she never had. Never being married. Never having kids.

She stood up, but fell back to the ground. The convulsions had gotten too bad for her to walk.

We all die anyways. What are you so afraid of?

“Just—” she replied, clawing at her scalp. “—not yet…”

Don’t be afraid of death.

“I am…”

Tsk. Some Christian.

She held her head. Be it for shame, fear, or the pain from arguing with the voice in her head, it was too hard to tell.