Five More Days.
I'd felt as though I was going to die before my eighteenth birthday for a long, long time. The night preceding my eighteenth birthday (in November), I was nearly overcome with a panic attack, for I knew, I knew that something was going to happen.
After I successfully turned eighteen, I became convinced that I wouldn't last the rest of the year. I would surely die before I reached the year 2009.
I have five days to go. I admire people for being able to join this group right now; I, however, am not so positive. After all, who the hell knows what the next five days may bring. There is a myriad of horrors that could occur between 11:00 pm on December 26, 2008 and 12:00 am on January 1, 2009. A car accidents, a psychotic killer, a freak kitchen accident, an unexpected heart attack, a sudden outbreak of Captain Tripps, an inadvertant nuclear catastrophe... honestly, death is everywhere.
I'm not expecting to die within the next five days, necessarily. Nay, I'm not that completely morbid and pessimistic. It just would not surprise me at all if it does indeed happen.