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The streetlights were dim as the mist enclosed it in its mysterious grip. She peered out of her window into the darkness, was there someone out there or was it her imagination?






Death.

I see it. My sweet release.

When is it coming?

Today? Tonight? Tomorrow? Tomorrow night?

I don't know. But, what if it's only visiting me? What if it's not here for me?

What shall be done, then?

𝗜 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗺𝘆 𝗱𝗼𝗼𝗿, 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗽𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝗯𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗲𝘁𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀.

"𝗗𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵, 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗯𝗲 𝘀𝗼 𝗸𝐢𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗳𝗿𝗲𝗲 𝗺𝗲?" 𝗜 𝗮𝘀𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝘀 𝗺𝘆 𝗹𝗲𝗴𝘀 𝗺𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗼𝘄𝗻.

𝗗𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮 𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝘆𝗲𝘁 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸. "𝐌𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥. 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭."

Then, I shall.

I will be waiting until my breath comes to an end — until the world forsakens me.

© Rosabella Thorne