[WP] You die.

I talked with my dad before he died. He was on his deathbed and could barely muster up the words to convey the fear that he felt at that moment.

"What is it, Dad?" I asked, grasping his hand with both of mine.

"I'm scared."

"Scared of what?" I asked again, but had a feeling that I already knew what it was.

"Death," he said. "What happens after?"

After a long silence, I responded, barely holding back the tears the formed in my eyes. "I don't know."

He died not long after. The entire family was gathered around the bed, solemnly staring at the body of a man who had great impact on their lives, a man who shaped the very fabric of who they were and what they would do, a man that they loved dearly.

I stood amongst the mourning, sharing in their pain. The silent sobbing of my cousins, my siblings, and my mother did not infringe on the stillness of the air. Not a single sound was uttered, even as I saw the sight that gripped my heart tight in a maelstrom of pain - emotional pain.

It was the sight of my dad, dead, eyes wide open as he stared unblinkingly into the ceiling. Right under him, I saw the wet patches adorning the sides of the fabric of the pillow, unmistakably caused by tears.

I pondered that day. Death is a bullet, flying across a war-torn battlefield, and we are soldiers fighting the war. We anticipate its arrival; we do our best to avoid it, but it will strike us, or those close to us, without warning or fanfare.

My family eventually moved on; scars healed and wounds sealed. My siblings continued on with their lives, and after I mourned, I did too. What's life after all, but a marathon we keep running?

I set up a date with my girlfriend a few months after. We agreed to meet up on a street close to both our workplaces for dinner and a movie.

Waiting on the corner of the street gave me the chills, thanks to how cold it was that night, a fact that wasn't helped by the seemingly endless amount of joggers running by, a gust of cold wind trailing behind them. I hunched over, rubbing my arms in an effort to keep warm.

"Over here!" I heard her call across the street.

I smiled in delight, and started to run over to where she was, relishing in the sight of someone close to me.

I stopped running.

/r/WritingPrompts Thread