Unlike those well-publicized heroes/heroines who have shown the world how courageous they are at the final hours of their lives, I, being a naturally-born coward(I hate to admit that, but, hey, honesty is the best policy, right?), has this inherent, haunting fear for death.

Death is not a stranger to us. Everyday we have witnessed, through our eyes and ears, the cessation of lives everywhere, be it natural deaths in hospitals, unexpected deaths at the scenes of traffic accidents, or unwanted deaths by intentional killings. Yet most of the time we tend to remain calm and indifferent unless there happen to be someone close to us among those dead.

But have you ever, in the course of your life, tried to stop for a moment to ponder very seriously, attentively and vividly upon your own death, which is also inevitable?

I have.

Even when I was a young kid, I would sometimes woke up in the middle of the night, from a nightmare and sprang up from the bed, feeling so genuinely that the final second of my life had come. An unspeakable and uncontrollable feeling of fear would suddenly soaked my whole body and soul, and I would tremble, sweat, panicked, and my young heart would cry out. “Oh, no!”

Of course this feeling would not last long, and the fear would eventually subside and diminish, as I conscientiously persuaded myself: “Come on, guy, it is still a long way to go!” or “Perhaps medical miracles would happen before that!” or something of similar effect. Then I would lie down, smoothen out my irregular breath, and resume my nightmare again.

Strangely such close-to-death experience has proved to be quite educating and enlightening though. It has helped me to understand the accidental nature of birth, the inevitability of death and the triviality of our existence.

To be more accurate, it is not the fear for the death itself, for the moment the death takes place, it is the fear for being pronounced dead. The fear arises rather from our sad knowledge that OUR DAYS ARE NUMBERED! And I believe the capital punishment of a criminal is not so much in the moment of execution as in the days after the announcement of his death penalty.

Now that I have grown up into a man and my mind has been bothered more by our day-to-day routines, yet this haunting fear for death has mockingly remained at the backdoor of my heart. I would still wake up in a dark or stormy night, suddenly sit up and feel, “I am dying…, I am dying…”

Of course, in addition to this unfailing fear, I have also more to ponder now, such as:

To whom should my secret bank accounts be entrusted?

When and where should my reincarnation take place?

To be a woman or to be a man?

Etc., etc.,…….

So, my dear readers, upon finishing this article, do spend a couple of minutes to ponder upon your own death in every possible detail, and let us enjoy sharing our common fear for my death….or YOURS!