What is 'dead'?

Throughout my time spent in jail apparently my father put himself in rehab. I’ll admit my father is not a bad guy; he's just done some bad things then again.
Haven’t we all?

So I decided to visit him, screw visiting hours I demanded they let me see MY father and so they did.

He was dressed in a clean outfit.

"Papa." he turned looking at me, his blue eyes smiled at me as he walked towards me.

"Con, My angel." he always said that, and it killed me. 'My angel.’ I'm far from an angel; in fact I’m the furthest from an angel, and even further then Satan himself. My father’s name is Damien Smith, he really is a nice guy besides the (or what use to be the) drug withdrawal, drug rages he went through. "Where have you been?" I turned to play with my fingers, hell I couldn’t bring myself to say it.

I mean how bad would it be to say, 'Hey dad went to jail, sorry I couldn’t visit because me being in jail and all...' Yeah, not taking that road. "Works been busy, looking for a new place to live. Hell I didn’t even know you were in here, old man."

He looked down; maybe that wasn’t the best road. Did I make it seem as if I was ignoring him? "I was in jail..." I muttered

"I know."

"Of course you did." I said sounding slightly frustrated.

I really hate it when people ask where you were and they already know the answer, maybe they want to see if you are really trustworthy.

The room was quiet, deathly silence filled each and every hall; it was so quiet I could hear my own heartbeat...

Ok that was a stretch, maybe so quiet I could hear my father breathing."How long are you in here for, old man?"

"Until I'm clean... or I die."

"Die?" I asked sounding confused, I know death, and I know it well. But even so I always asked myself what is "death"? Medical science shit says it’s when a human no longer breathes or their heart stops.
But even after a person is considered dead, could they still be living? Think about it maybe they are being reborn possibly, maybe something like angels can come and take them to a heaven maybe some sort of personal paradise.

Maybe they wander around like ghost, not really searching for anything; just wanting to make sure there family is safe.

"Death comes for us all; most of us know when our time is up. We ignore it, sometimes you can feel when another is about to pass..." He grabbed my hand lightly and I could feel it, this aura of darkness and it scared me so I pulled back.

"Fuck dad, don’t scare me like that! You’re not going to die, you’re getting help now and get over your silly goddamn ideas that you going to die. Because you’re not, I won’t let you die, I need you..."

He looked at me with a smile and reached into his dresser, he took out a brown leather book and shoved it into my arms. "May God be with you, my angel. My Con, stay safe."

Two male staff came in telling me I had to leave, I really didn’t have a choice so I said my goodbyes and left. Down the hall I could hear a female patient screaming and several staff running. "Agony! Agony! Daughter of Satan, have mercy!"

Agony? Daughter of the Devil? I could only imagine the types of drugs she was on: LSD, Heroin, Cocaine, Meth.

Outside the air was cool, not cold and brisk but cool. My dad tapped on the window and waved me off.
The streets of New York are always packed full of people, all different kinds too. Short, tall, thin, fat, rich, poor, kids, elderly all kinds. It annoys me, I never truly believed I fit into this world, it was a weird thing.