[sitting in a hospital bed with a ragged pink bunny, talking out loud] Ever since I was little I slept with a stuffed rabbit. I have had Jellybean for as long as I can remember, he was a gift from my godparents. I had a zoo of stuffed creatures situated strategically around my small bed, protecting my arms and legs from any hands lurking below. It was always a bunny that slept closest to me, it was a bunny I wanted when I was sick, when I stayed the night away from home. I may be twenty-two but when I have a nightmare I always reach for my oldest friend. I used to lie in bed when I was little and think about dying. I was scared of going to hell for eternity. I couldn’t imagine what that would be like. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine something going on for a very long time and when I thought of it never ending my little body would shudder and my heart sunk to the floor. Torturing myself night after night I thought of hell and dying and losing my mother. I said prayers to ease my fears and began to picture dying in my mother’s arms with my little brother curled up between us. We were asleep and holding each other, bathing in the glow of midnight television snow when the end of the world crashed down on our heads and our home collapsed on us, killing us instantly without pain.



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