The dog heard him coming before I did. She woke out of a deep sleep on the rug and was completely alert and whining at the door. I knew this day was coming, but I had always hoped that I would have a few more years. Now, I lie down in my bed, praying he would go away. The times I imagined this day coming, I would always be calm and collected, willingly meeting my end.

However, as I sat her in my bed with my covers wrapped around my trembling body, I was anything but. All I could think about was wishing that I had a few more years.

There was a slow knocking on a door somewhere inside my house.

I buried my face in my covers to stifle a scream of terror I couldn't control. Everyone knows that doors and walls don't hinder him, so him knocking was pointless other than to notify you of his presence. My dog had now even dismissed the fact that he was here, as she was sleeping again and snoring at the foot of my bed. Once animals figured out it was him who was intruding, they seemed to not care about what he was doing and they promptly went about their day, ignoring their owner and what was to become of them.

Yet I still couldn't handle this without my pooch by my side.

"Come here girl," I called softly. Her ears perked up and she looked at me. I patted beside me on the covers and she hopped up next to me. I was slightly calmed by her presence and I was able to calm myself enough to where I was able to comprehend what was about to happen.

At the age of 24, I am going to die.

My life would be considered short, but I had done everything I wanted to. When I was 18, just like everyone else, I received a letter from him on when and how I was going to die. Now, his footsteps drew near. I heard him on the other side of the door and I stood. My whole life and all my memories, good and bad flashed before me as I did so. Then, he walked in. Death didn't have a specific look, but as he walked up to me, he looked like my father.

He pulled me into a hug and welcomed me with open arms as I sank into the warm embrace of death.