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A Dance with Death
#WritcoStoryChallenge
Does life give us a second chance? The race had begun and he/she wondered if he/she would win this time round.
© Rosabella Thorne
I ran as fast as I could — my breathing ragged and my legs fatigued.
How can one outrun death?
How many people had outrun death and won the race of life? Was there even anyone who did?
Everyday, I wake up to the emptiness of my life. The world has so much to offer and yet, it has nothing to offer to me. Dreams, goals, aspirations? I do love to write. But, would I stay alive for the sake of writing? Most probably not. If death were to take my hand and ask me to dance, I would grab its hand and force it to hug me until I am no more.
Say...Had the race begun and everyone left me behind or I simply rejected the idea to run and awaited for the inevitable demise that would befall on all of us? Which one is better — to be freed or to be free? Who knows? Is freedom even real? Is it a concept? Or a lie told to humanity for it to strive out of life?
Let's just say freedom does exist, I know how I can attain it. Death. Only death can free me, now. I wake up to emptiness and sleep to it.
I do not wish to run the race but why do I wish to win? What do I get in life if I dare to reject death's invitation to dance?
Do I even get a chance to run now that I've been stalling the whole time? Say, why am I desperate to win the race that I do not even wish to run? I do not wish for others to outrun me, but I do not wish to stand or even walk.
Why is it so hard to stand up and run? Why was I born tired? Was I even born tired or was I simply exhausted by seeing everyone else run endless and aimlessly?
It doesn't matter if you win the race, death is still waiting at the end of the line.
However, the question still remains:
“Is it better to dance with death or hold a knife against it's throat?”
We shall find out for ourselves, won't we?
Does life give us a second chance? The race had begun and he/she wondered if he/she would win this time round.
© Rosabella Thorne
I ran as fast as I could — my breathing ragged and my legs fatigued.
How can one outrun death?
How many people had outrun death and won the race of life? Was there even anyone who did?
Everyday, I wake up to the emptiness of my life. The world has so much to offer and yet, it has nothing to offer to me. Dreams, goals, aspirations? I do love to write. But, would I stay alive for the sake of writing? Most probably not. If death were to take my hand and ask me to dance, I would grab its hand and force it to hug me until I am no more.
Say...Had the race begun and everyone left me behind or I simply rejected the idea to run and awaited for the inevitable demise that would befall on all of us? Which one is better — to be freed or to be free? Who knows? Is freedom even real? Is it a concept? Or a lie told to humanity for it to strive out of life?
Let's just say freedom does exist, I know how I can attain it. Death. Only death can free me, now. I wake up to emptiness and sleep to it.
I do not wish to run the race but why do I wish to win? What do I get in life if I dare to reject death's invitation to dance?
Do I even get a chance to run now that I've been stalling the whole time? Say, why am I desperate to win the race that I do not even wish to run? I do not wish for others to outrun me, but I do not wish to stand or even walk.
Why is it so hard to stand up and run? Why was I born tired? Was I even born tired or was I simply exhausted by seeing everyone else run endless and aimlessly?
It doesn't matter if you win the race, death is still waiting at the end of the line.
However, the question still remains:
“Is it better to dance with death or hold a knife against it's throat?”
We shall find out for ourselves, won't we?
