WE HAVE been traveling for what seems like an eternity, and I’m still not sure where we’re heading. We’ve been on a journey previously, but it seems like we still have a long way to go, particularly considering that we’ve just recently made a trip to the beach.  But due to Azrail’s warning that our journey would be lengthy if we board the ship and the possibility of rain later in the day or early the next morning because of the poor weather conditions today, we did not go to the ship’s pier. I disregarded the rest of his words since I couldn’t comprehend either of them and I don’t care where we went as long as I could get away from our home, which was all that mattered. But I’m not alright if this is all a hoax, and they’re simply going to sell what’s within me on the black market for a few dollars. I’m not interested in squandering my life. The

THE THUMPING sounds in my chest made me feel as if I was about to hyperventilate. My mind and heart were debating whether I should be full of joy that I was about to die or panicked and terrified that this would be my last day on earth. I closed my eyes with a resounding sigh. “Zacheus, all you have to do is to be delightful. No one compelled you to commit yourself to Live Suicide; you chose to do it on your own. Take a stand for it. Imagine that you will sacrifice your life for the sake of your parents and others.” I pondered this for a moment. My mind is playing tricks on me, and I’m not sure whether I’m deceiving myself into making the choices I’m about to make. Maybe dying in Live Suicide is a better option than dying from my sickness, which would surely take my life if I don’t die here. And at the very least, if I die by Live Suicide, I will get a substantial sum of money that I c

WE CAME to a halt in front of a massive door, and they shoved me inside. I shifted my eyes throughout and there are many lights and cameras that encompassed the whole room. "What exactly is this? Are they about to assassinate me here? This room does not seem to be a murder scene, but rather a film set," I thought to myself. "You go on the stage," the guy behind me ordered, pointing to the little platform crammed with cameras. There is also a mic stand placed there. Is this a concert that I attended? Is there singing contest so there is a mic placed there? Even though my mind was racing with questions, I obliged the guy's order and proceed towards the stage. As I ascended the platform, the light, microphone, and camera in front of me all went flash. I also seen the new face that was staring me in the face intently. Who is he? Is he the Adrastos to whom the guys who pursued me earlier referred? What is his function in this instance?&nb

DO YOU want to be someone else's meal when you die? What if, instead of having your body buried six feet into the earth or cremated, you were used as food for others who were starving? When you're in the kitchen to be a food to others, what would you you feel? Would you be furious with them if you knew what they were doing was for the greater welfare of others? Will you become a part of other people's bodies if they devour your body in various ways? Can individuals sleep easily if they know that the food they ate was made from a dead human being? There are a lot of questions in my thoughts about cannibalism right now since it seems that I will be used as a dish later on by other people if I commit myself here in this world. It's a little frightening to consider that some of the meat we consume on a daily basis is derived from people rather than animals. And it's terrifying to consider that your body has devolved into food for other people. I

MY GLANCE fell on his, and my eyes widened in surprise. "What? Are you sure you meant what you said? Is it permissible for me to send a letter to my parents?" The fact that I continued asking him questions indicated that my brain was still having difficulty digesting what he was saying. If I had the ability to write a genuine letter, I would write a real letter because I have a lot to say to them that I didn't get to say since I left without informing them of my departure. They were also unaware that I had left home with the intent of committing myself. And at the very least, in the letter, I am able to convey all the things that I was unable to tell them in person. They are entitled to an explanation. I didn't want my parents to anticipate my return to our home. I don't want them to wait for an event that will never occur again. "If you want to leave a message, you may do so. Do you like it or not?" he inquired of me.