Let's write a story about a girl who was never really living. She watched people, and she breathed in and out, and sometimes she would cry, but the doctors all concluded that, no, this girl was not alive, despite her life-like tendencies.

One day a boy walked up to the poor dead girl and asked her if she wanted to live, and extended his hand. This question caught her off guard – she never thought it would be possible. As much as she wanted to scream "yes!" right away, she needed to think about this.

You see, there was a reason why she wasn't living. It started out simply as something she had never tried, but over time, it became something so prolific that to actually try it would be like a newborn who attempted to play the piano – it just became seemingly impossible to do. Also, she wondered, who was this boy? She had watched people so much to know that sometimes they weren't good people. Or sometimes, even, they were, but would then change.

She thought about all the possibilities if she decided to start living. Truthfully, she dreamed about it every night, and during the day, she would dream, too. Sadly, she never knew how to start her life, and yet, here was a boy, asking her. As much as not-living had taught her about life, she was still scared. Would she have to spend all her time with this boy? Would she be indebted to him? Would he hurt her, eventually?

She began to realize that she was making her choice. Knowing that a boy, a chance like this, comes only once in a life time, made her decision all that harder. Though it was all she wished for, she truthfully knew that a boy like this was just too good to be true, and that she would have no hold on him, ever.

So she declined with the most gracious smile she could, and thanked the beautiful boy for the chance, but her place was to watch others live and be dead herself. He seemed unfazed as he turned and left, and the girl experienced a pain that she never thought possible, and that was the pain of regret. However, she managed to subdue the pain with horrible scenarios that never happened, but could have if she would have left with the boy.

Thus, our story of the girl ended. She sat out the rest of her death watching others succeed and fail and learn and lose. She had trouble comprehending if she made the right choice when she saw pain with happiness, but at night, when most were silent and she was dreaming, the boy would flit across her memories, and she would wonder what would have occurred if she took his hand.

Oh, trepidation and self-doubt! Though tools of destruction can be forms of creation, one girl lost out of life, and because of that, how many more?