what is scarier than death?

Have you ever stared death in the face? looked upon it's beady eyes, and saw your own mortality? I have looked death in the face many times. I saw death in my fathers eyes, as he lay in his room at the hospital. I felt death, in the cold hands of my grandfather, who remain still in his bed. I have heard death, in the voicemails of my grandmother after her voice had gone silent. I have met death on multiple occasions. When my cat was put down, when my cousins car wrapped around a tree, when a noose wrapped around the neck of a boy in my town.

I have met death, when my aunts, and great aunts, cousins, uncles, another grandfather, a friend, a friends' father, all left this world, and death waved to me as they departed. I know death. Death is a frequent flyer in my life. I see him Almost three times a year like clockwork since middle school. Death and I are old friends. We used to tell each other secrets under the covers of my childhood bed. I would whisper to death should I? and death would tell me yes. It would end there our little game. I was too scared to follow through, because while death is familiar, he is also terrifying.

Death smells like rotting blood and formaldehyde, death looks sickly and thin, and far too pale. Death stalks; lurking around every corner, following older citizens down the busy streets of cities and the quiet streets of towns. Death camps in hospitals and highways, and grocery stores. Death waits for no man, but death does play. Holding a soul and letting it run only to pounce on it later. When it feels safe and secure. Death is curious. Death toys with the emotions of broken people to see how much more they can break. Death doesn't mind destroying you, in the end you will still be with him.

Death is spiteful, but not hateful. Death holds a grudge against us all, but death doesn't hate us. No, death loves us! Death adores humans, good and bad, young, old, tall, short, all different colors and flavors and shapes, oh how death delights in collecting us. We the small unique oddities of the world. We shower death in gifts. From lives to livelihoods, death gets everything from us. We do deaths bidding. With wars and murder, plague, starvation. Mans' selfishness keeps death pleased.

I have stared death In the face. In my own face as I lay splayed out on the hood of my car late at night. I can taste death now. Bitter and stale, metallic. Death lingers over me now more menacing than ever. He is impatient with me now. for evading him this long. For telling him no under childhood blankets and on tall bridges and deep waters. He is done waiting on me. He looks at me betrayed. My face spelling his thoughts. " aren't you grateful? I let you stay so long? Aren't I a blessing now that you find yourself without a choice? how much worse will it be without me? how much suffering are you willing to endure without me?"

He gloats, like he has won. My hands tremble and my shaky legs move closer to him. Death is alluring. He teases our curiosity. Pokes at our patience and tempts us with promise of relief and peace. I want to give in to this promise; to go with death arms open and cares forgotten. He stands now between me and my own body. He wont take me, Death does not give chase. He waits calmly for me to give in. It's a silent face off and I contemplate staying here in my stare down with him, in hopes that he will leave me be. It becomes evident to me that my body will wither, and I will be left a corpse. Whilst my spirit is cursed to wander a ghost alone. Death my only company if I am lucky enough. Something tells me once the tether between my spirit and flesh is severed, Death will lose interest in me and I will remain in solitude. Isolation is far more terrifying, than death himself.

I decide that the only way out is to return to my self. It's a bit of a gamble to try and face death so boldly as I am planning now. Before I can second guess myself, I charge at him. Part of me is content with the possibility that he will open his arms and take me as well. I meet his gaze determined to surpass him and his grin falters. I lunge at his cold pale frame and feel a shock rip through my being as I jolt awake, back into my own skin.

I look around hazily and see the faces of paramedics and firefighters around me. Bright lights are in my eyes. Muted muffled sounds that should b words ring in my ears. Welcome back to the world of the living I think as my head gets heavy and I let it fall back. My eyes begin to close and death waves goodbye to me as I depart into the ambulance. Death is scary, but not nearly as mortally terrifying as eternal isolation.