My life is like a heartbeat: vitally important, but far too short.  The path to our demise is a gradual but certain one.  It has many twists and turns but the destination is always the same.  Looking at you I see that you have a longer route to travel while mine is brief.

Did my creator initially intend for such a brief existence?  I remember my beginnings, my creator starting with a blank page.  I had stealthily crept into my creator’s mind in the middle of the night, I was in his head sprouting and growing, I was as real as if I was sitting in a chair beside him.  I remember his enthusiasm and excitement when he woke, throwing his ideas onto the page like an artist creating a masterpiece, breathing life into me, putting me together, part by part, each piece representing an aspect of my very being.  My eyes dark and stormy, much like the turbulent relationship I have with my family.  My smile slow to emerge but vibrant when it does.  These features were not random; I remember what my creator looked like.  I have his eyes, his daughter’s smile, his wife’s hands and the tresses of her silky blonde hair.  I know that I existed in other people before the point I was conceived and brought to life.  As I look at you I realise we are very different. I can tell that you do not remember the point of your conception.  As I feel death closing in I see that you have such a long life ahead of you, but I see that my brief life may be better spent.  For you may have a job, a family and a house but I have done something more important.  I am saying what needs to be said in my short amount of time.

Characters are words made tangible.  We do not exist until a writer describes us on the page.  We drift, bodiless and ethereal, weighing nothing; we have no voice until we are anchored with words.  You may read about the heroic escapades of vibrant characters but I will tell you the truth about how we characters feel.  We know that when we have completed our quest, slain our dragon, our brief light will flicker and die.  We will disappear like a cool wind which you will feel but may so quickly forget.  But, I want you to remember characters such as I that are vivid, real, alive. Those characters that are so wonderfully three dimensional.  Do not think of us as just characters in books because we are anything but.  We are people whose lives you deeply impact.  But some of us do not realise what we are, rushing to accomplish their goal not knowing that the outcome will be their untimely demise. Some of them think that they are just little specks in a huge universe, but they are the opposite.  They take up huge amounts of the universe as the universe of the book is only what is described.

I ask of you: what type of reader are you?  Are you my favourite type of reader? The one who takes their time and savours every word.  Holding onto every letter that is written.  Or are you the type who reads because you are made to?  Forced to read by your parents, employer or teacher?  You feel the fire rising up in your belly every time you see the words, but you know you must read on.  Or are you the type who ends lives quickly?  Someone who reads book after book not realising the consequences of your heartless actions.  Are you the type of person who starts a book and never finishes?  You are the worst type of person.  You deny us of our happiness.  You stop us from ever completing our goal.

I feel that my end may be near.  I have said what I wanted to say.  That was my goal.  I have represented my side.  I want you to know that I am a martyr for the cause.  I am sad that my life may be over soon, but I am happy to know that my goal is complete.  In a strange way I am just like all the others, just striving towards a goal which signals my end.  I wonder what happens after this story ends.  Do I simply stop existing?  I may not change much in your world but at least I reached one person.  Now go spread the insights I have shared with you to all and maybe one day your people will savour every word that they are given.  Goodbye.  I hope it doesn’t hurt.