Do you know what it feels like to lose something or someone so important that you are so unsure of what to do once it's gone?

This used to be a really touchy subject, but it's been so long that I think I can handle telling you.

I lost something. Something super important, my mortality.

I know, I know. No dying, great right? That's what I thought for the longest time. You see, when I was younger, I was very sickly. Always in the hospital, and my parents were pretty depressed. I wasn't going to get better. That's what the doctors said. My parents cried constantly, when they thought I wasn't listening. It made me feel worse, like this was somehow my fault.

One day, I got a mysterious dream.

A ghost appeared before me offering me a chance to live and age until 18 - I would live forever! There would be no sadness, I'd be a regular kid, there'd be no more hospitals - it'd be great.

So, little naïve kid me accepted the deal.

The next day, I was discharged from the hospital. I ran around with the other kids from my new school. I made memories and soon moved to junior high.

In middle school, I began to get high marks in my academics, making my parents proud. They'd been even happier than me about my recovery. I played sports and did theater.

High school came around, and by that time, I had forgotten about the only condition given to me: I'd stop aging at 18 and live forever.

Of course, that wasn't a problem until later in life after I'd graduated and began to attend college. As the years passed, I became infamous for my youth. Many thought I'd been possessed by a demon of sorts.

I guess that could be entirely possible, that ghost obviously had it out for me. . .

People don't talk to me. I'm surprised you've stayed this long. How's it feel to talk to the girl who 'haunts the children' and teaches the children not to disobey whatever God they seek retribution from.

Through all of this, the thing that pained me the most was watching those who I grew up with and treated me like family pass on before me. I've seen my friends children have children and pass on until I couldn't take it anymore. I went insane.

I became the monster that everyone, including myself, feared I would become.

I came to my senses (at least a little bit, ya' know) long after, perhaps hundreds of years.

Though I sometimes regret my choice, I always turn back and say I would do the same thing over and over so long as I could see that proud, happy expression on my parents' faces when they realized I was going to pull through.

I guess the moral of my sad tale has to be to embrace your choices, if not that. . . well, I guess that would be to think your choices through?

Be happy with what you choose.