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I'd had my more than my fair share of near-daeth

experiences: it wasn't something you ever really got used to.

its seemed oddly inevitable, thought, faceing death again. Like i really was make for disaster. i,d escaped time and time again, but it kept coming for me.

Still, this time was so different from others. you could run from someone you feared, you could try to fight someone you hated. All my reactions where geared toward thse kinds of killers-the monsters, the enemies.

Whan you loved the one who was killing you, it left you no options. How could you run, how could you fight, when doing so would hurt that beloved one?

if your lift was all you had to give your beloved, how could you not give it? if it was someone you truly love?