I was only ten then, but I knew I was sick. I was born sick. “Was he scared?” my voice startled me for I wasn’t big on the whole question department.
“Scared?” Ms. Mae questioned like she hadn’t heard the question correctly.
“Yes, scared of dying?” I turned to look at her. “I mean, death is so...” I looked back at the man starring at the nails in his palms, tracing the blood with my eyes, “so final.”
“ Well...” she scratched her head, “i imagine he was. But he did it to save us all.” she smiled delighted with herself. “Now if you would-”
“- I don’t believe you.” I turned to look at her with tears and rage flaring in my eyes.
Kacey Shannon, is the author of many works of arts. She likes to think that art imitates life.