Life's a bitch, and then you die. Truly whoever first said this was a genius and spoke with great insight to our modern times. Another snippet of a famous poem crosses my mind in the instant of my death, changed for my circumstances. 

This is how my life ends

this is how my life ends

this... is how my life ends...

Not with a bang, but a whimper...

I awoke in the pitch black dark, startled I let out a wordless cry, the voice I heard was not the one I had grown to know and dislike over the years. It was higher pitched and sharper, akin to, but not quite the same as a baby's cry. Light flickered at the edge of my vision and I turned my head to side, just now realizing how heavy my head felt and my inability to lift it. I could make out the outline of a door and the sound of footsteps getting closer.

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The door opened and a beautiful, otherworldly woman passed through. She had long white hair, tied back with a few strays here an there. Her eyes were bloodshot and bleak, with deep circles beneath. She had obviously been crying. Her voice called out softly, with great hesitance...

"Jaryu was that you little one?"

"Eweh..?" came my voice as I made a questioning noise. My voice didn't seem to want to form words, my tongue felt very uncooperative. Though I didn't have time to dwell on that as I was startled by her rushing towards me and lifting me up into a tight hug.

"Ahh, Jaryu, my son you are alive!" the woman exclaimed with joy. With a smile beaming across her face she briefly intoned in a strange language. "Ventus mea verba feret." Then continued in a more normal voice "Your brother lives come and receive him."

My head was spinning in confusion, I had never had a mother. I had grown up in a poor orphanage and eventually ran away from the poor treatment. Who was this woman calling me her son and why did I seem to be a child? Moreover, I had siblings!? I had long wanted a family but knew it was not meant for me.

The woman, my mother supported my head and turned me towards the door as sound of a small stampede approached. Eight heads and eight childish bodies came into view, all young girls and such a racket and commotion was made. I was overwhelmed, confused, and exhausted.

So I did two of the things babies do best, though usually not together, void my bowels and pass out.