Life, it seems so simple. People live on Earth until the time comes to leave. It seems easy, but it is not that simple. People don't work like machines until their gas runs out. They constantly refuel and repair themselves until their parts become outdated and their gears can't turn any longer.
I remember being a child. I didn't have a care in the world. I didn't have to worry about anything. I was happy. Where did that life go? It's still there, but it's buried under 6 feet of stone. Mother always said that life would get harder. Friends would come and go. People would start to show their true colors. I knew that it would come; I accepted it. But I never thought that it would come so quickly, all at once. Life hit me like a Gatling gun, slow at first, but it sped up over time, one hit after another until I fell.
When I was younger, I saw life as a garden. There were endless adventures to go on with friends that would last a lifetime. As I grew up I found the edge, scorched and covered in ash. I was separated from my friends and was left to wander the wasteland of life on fire.