[ WP ] Everyone dies on their birthday , but no one knows at which age it will occur .

It was the first year I really cared, and so many have said they felt the same, when you're finally old enough to realise what was truly at stake simply by lasting another year. 
 
 My grandparents passed all in old age, the youngest scraping through her nineties, and my parents have lasted into their fifties, but I can not deny the empty feeling in my stomach, the feeling received from waking up to a house draped in black. All my photos covered by black veils and specially grown black roses scattered through the house. 
 
 A silent breakfast of lavish foods, all my favourites, but I wish to share words with my bread. My mother dabs a cloth to her eyes, sniffling her sobs. I inhale deeply and feel the cold spread through my body, like a drop of ink on water, and all I regret is that I did not die laughing.
