I don't think anyone really wants to die. It's just how life works. We live and we die, and I don't think it's really something to be dwelled on. I don't know what happens after death but I do know that in my life everything I do is just apart of one simple question. Is it easier to forget? Or to remember. My name… I guess I should tell you considering you are about to read this story.
My name is Gray Crossman and I'm in a hospital right now. Or at least that's what I think according to the sounds I hear, and the people. It's weird though, I have people talking all around me… they tell me things. Things I wish I could forget, but they stick in my brain filling me with lies of what I can't remember. A time when I didn't have problems and honestly… I wish they would let me go. Pull the plug. But they don't. They don't know I can't remember. They, being my so-called family. The doctors tell them that I might be able to hear them, but with the fact that I am in a coma, and no part of me is responding, It's very unlikely. It's fine though, I don't miss them. Correction, I don't remember them. I don't remember anything but that one question. Is it easier to forget? Or to remember?
And now I want to know who would come up with this monstrous question dwelling deep within my head as I go back into darkness.