See, I knew this girl who was terrified of being shot in the head, and I knew everything about why it scared her, but I can't remember her name. I remember she was fat, and I remember she was terrified of being shot in the head, but I can't remember her name, and I can't remember anything else about her. I must have been paying attention for some reason if I remember she had a crippling fear of being shot in the head, but I can't imagine why I would have been paying attention enough to remember, nor can I imagine why I'd remember that, but not the other that. I would find her, ask her and find out, but that'd be effort. Oh, and she's dead now anyway. Shot in the head, I think.
It was life stopping immediately, without her being given a chance to resolve anything, that scared her - or so I say she said. Stupid bitch spent so much time worrying about being shot in the head that she didn't have anything to resolve anyway, but try and tell her that, and she'd rip your fucking eyes out, or just be cross with you, depending on whether you were left with or without eyes. A shot to the head is instant death. It scared her. She knew there was nothing after death, but that didn't scare her; death is just death. She knew that it wouldn't actually matter whether she resolved anything as she was going to be dead anyway, but it still scared her that she'd die without resolving anything. Irrational, y'see.
Get shot in the throat and you have fourteen seconds to think "Shit, I've been shot in the throat. Ain't got time to resolve everything, ah well, might as well not bother trying to resolve them. Ooh look, I've just resolved them by being content not to resolve them. Might as well die then. How many more seconds have I got?" Get shot in the head and you don't. She didn't like the idea of that. It scared her lots.
If she weren't poor and downtrodden, she'd have had her brain encased in a bulletproof box inside her skull. It would have squeezed things a bit, but brains are squishy. She'd have resisted the urge to beat herself about the head with a hammer too, so she reckoned. She couldn't afford it, she didn't get it. Fucking capitalism. She couldn't afford a bulletproof helmet either, but I don't think she would have bought one even if she could afford it. Constant reminder, y'see? She'd never dare take it off just in case luck or a patient sniper were against her, her hair would get all skanky and itchy, she'd not be able to sleep very well. Even fear is better than that.
No nothing, I just forget what her name was.