How about the following:
When you die, there is nothing afterwards. We keep picturing this dark void, or ourselves floating in outer space, watching longingly as the world keeps going without us. We wonder what people will think of us. We wonder if it was worth it. We worry if we'll feel regret.
None of that happens--at least for some people. You can think of it like you just go to sleep, but no dreams. Just pure nothingness, and no sense of time, not sense of anything. You can imbdue this moment with terror if you want, but you can just as easily think of it as peace, final, eternal, lasting peace. Release from the struggle of book reports, bills, shouting matches, the constant biological drives, unsatisfactory lunch meat, the whole mofo.
Now, you can build it up to whatever you want. You can just as easily build it up to a moment of eternal terror when you regret the entire past and the lack of a future, and live forever in your worst moments being amplified and stretched to fill the universe.
There's actually no way of knowing which it is. But you get to choose how you think about it during your life. A life filled with dread and fear of this last moment is going to be sour, whereas a life filled with a slightly curious trust that everything will be fine will be much more enjoyable.
Death is such an intrinsic part of life that it makes no sense that it'd be a horror. It'd be a cosmic joke on all of us if it were. Knowing one person that has died well--old, without regrets, satisfied with loved ones, and not in pain is an existence proof that it doesn't have to be this way.
Personally I want to try to live one of those lives that ends in peace and without regretting or hating at the end, just a lot of nice memories coming back as my brain winds down and releases one monster rush of endorphins.