The Art of Dying

I am both fearful and fascinated by death, and have been since a young girl. I laid awake at night, enduring mini panic attacks at the thought of my parents dying and leaving me alone. I stood stoic at my grandparents' funerals, dressed in my best attire, a smile pasted to my small face as I greeted mourners filing past the open caskets, wooden boxes filled with nothing more than decaying flesh and bone houses the spirit long ago abandoned. As an adult, I obsess over the paranormal, watchin...