I don't want to die.

It keeps me up at night.

Because I know that when I die, whenever that will be, I'll probably wake up in some futuristic shopping mall, having just spent two space dollars and a mere fifteen space minutes living "my life" by means of one of the future's virtual reality massage chairs. Then I'll get up and watch the long line of people circle through, living "my life" then getting back in line.

And I'll remember who I am again.
I'm Xia Cobolt, a twelve-year-old Pan-Asian Euroamerican girl.

And I'm a fugitive.