Maybe

I've always believe to have done all that was possible to keep the man’s hand away from my choices, but in my willingness to help, I succumbed to exactly that. The man came to control my movements. All I wanted was a ‘yes’, or a ‘no’, but in classic fashion, another box was created where the ‘maybe’ was marked. Just like that, death was design to come slowly, at the pace the man had chosen, not mine, but his.