6 decades books

My death came and I wasn’t disturbed or sad by it. I was relieved because I didn’t have to hide anymore. I was someone that had been running and running away from persecutors half of my life. It was a harsh life that couldn’t be called one. Nonetheless, I kept on running and killing the ones that attempted against me until I died—I was killed—I was freed from my arduous life. Perhaps that was what I had wanted all along, why did I not let them kill me way earlier?