The story of how I Lived, was Born again, and Died

Hurtling toward the earth at warp speed. Done for my old writing class.

I never said I wanted this. I didn't want to kill, to be killed. It was a cruel act of fate that brought me here. This is the story of how lived, how I was born again, how I killed, and how I died.
I was born, and I hit the ground- or should I say the vacuum- running. I had been running my whole life; it was all I've ever known. I had ran past entire galaxies, felt the heat of stars and the chill of the vast expanses of emptiness. I was ice, and I had barely escaped the pull of black holes as they sucked in light and mass, growing and engorging themselves on the buffet of the universe.
There was no time for me, no days, no hours, no minutes, no seconds. Everything was running, just running. Sometimes I didn't know if I was running, or if everything was moving past me. I didn't know how I knew anything I knew. I just knew. What I didn't know was that someday, I would be destroyed.
I flew quietly past the gas giants, easily avoiding their gravitational pull. The asteroid belt wasn't a challenge, either. It was when I saw that one planet that I began to feel scared. I'd never felt fear before. I'd always known what to expect, always breezed by planets with no conflicts. I was frightened because I had never collided with anything. Yes, I had felt, I had felt radiation and fire and the tickle of gases and nebulas, but I had never touched anything. But there it was, this massive chunk of rock, looming ominously in the distance.
I stopped running. I fell off of the meteor like that. I was an explosion, I was a new being, and there were more of me. I wondered if they could think and feel too, I wondered if I was the one meteorite amongst many that preserved the identity of its bolide father. We began to fall, we began to run again. We were running into the planet.
The worst part was entering the atmosphere. At first, it felt like I was colliding with a star. Then it felt like I was a star. I was racing, and as I raced through the oxygen the fire grew. It consumed me. I was on fire. It tore at me, covered me, and engulfed me. I was charred and smoking, I was a star, a flying star. I was ice on fire. My tail whipped around, trailing smoke. I flew through clouds that momentarily relieved my pain with their moisture, only to be burning again once I passed through the cloud layer.
Then I saw them. The walked, they stood, they moved like me, but they were doing something I'd never done. They were communicating. Suddenly, I had the desire to communicate, to touch, and to feel as they did. I was so close, it was like I could feel and live every footstep, every wave, every touch, and every word.
I hit the building. It was so solid, its presence so commanding. I couldn't float through it the way I floated through gas. It took effort, and I pushed through, through glass, through stone. Through flesh. As I came towards them, their faces changed. They looked the way I had felt when I saw the planet in my path. Fearful. For a moment, I was wondering if they thought like me, or if they were just mere objects, pawns on the chessboard of the universe. But they were dead, and I was so alive, thinking, feeling, touching, and running. Then I stopped. I stopped crashing, I stopped running; I was dead. I wasn't moving, so I must have been dead. At least I had died living.