There is an ICY PAIN bubbling from deep within the center of his chest. It EATS at his heart, leaves FROSTBITE gnawing at the edge of his fingers. It has become familiar, almost like an OLD FRIEND. But, he does not WELCOME it.
Not when it WAKES him at night, in the early hours, as if PULLED from a NIGHTMARE. It leaves him CLAWING at his chest, leaves him heaving DESPERATELY for air to fill his dying lungs. It leaves his mind spinning, in a state of PANIC that leaves him feeling HELPLESS.
He does not KNOW what to do, let alone, HOW TO DEAL WITH IT. He is AFRAID, and he is RIGHTLY SO.
Because he’s DYING. The PAIN in his chest is no ILLUSION, and the GUILT he feels for something HE CANNOT HELP is as REAL as the fear that CONSUMES his thoughts, and the SADNESS he feels for leaving his LOVED ONES weighs as heavy on him as the fact that he will NOT live to see the dawn of a new year.
This knowledge has TAKEN ITS TOLL, almost as much as the SICKNESS that weakens his already old body. He is NOT PREPARED to die. The question is, is ANYONE? There is SO MUCH left for him to do, SO MUCH that he needs to take care of.
He’s reminded of ALL of this the one morning he wakes, and the DEATHLY COLD has seized his throat, before FORCING him to attempt and spill the EMPTINESS in his stomach. All he gets is BLOOD. It is the ONLY THING that plagues his thoughts as he dry-heaves on the FLOOR, BEGGING for it to STOP.
He is reminded AGAIN as he lays on his DEATHBEDS, surrounded by BITTER family and ANGRY FRIENDS.
He is NOT reminded as his coffin is placed SIX FEET UNDER. He can NO LONGER feel the ACHE that ATE at him. Because he is DEAD.