I think of death as a new beginning. When we moved to Washington my grandparents and I suffered health wise. My grandmother died a few months after moving here and my grandfather is slowing dying. He is constantly coughing so hard it wears him out. He can't breathe or eat because of his coughing. They say his cancer isn't back but he has lost 100 pounds in only a few months. He is skin and bones. I hear him throughout the night and day, I don't want him suffering but I am useless. I want to yell at God for doing this but I know he isn't listening. He took my grandmother away after only a few weeks of learning she had cancer everywhere in her body. I was wrecked with grief to the point I wanted to end my own life. But I didn't because my grandfather and my mother needed me to be strong. My brothers are in denial but the truth is plain as day. What can I do? I am exhausted and I just want to cry but I can't because the tears won't come. I am wasting away and I don't know if I can handle this. I can hear my grandfather crying even now.
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Who am I? Why am I alive?
Non-FictionWho am I? Why am I alive? Why does my heart beat like a drum? Why do I still breathe? These are questions that pop into my head and probably always will. I am nobody important and I am not even that special. I am not hero nor am I a villain. I do no...
