Nestled in the restless night, I toss and turn with my thoughts. Thoughts that chirp like crickets, and buzz like the faint flickers of streetlights.

Thoughts of my future, if I live long enough to see it.

If...

And it all comes crashing down again.

Ever since I was a little brat, I was paranoid about dying.
At night, I'd have nightmares about wrinkling till I rot, I still do. My mother would tuck a blade under my pillow, saying it would ward the demons away....