She squinted her eyes , making a desperate effort to look around and spot something , anything that would be adequate enough to indicate that she still had hope . That, she could still keep going.
But, to no avail. Humorously chuckling to her own self that , she couldn't even bring to pity anymore, she huffed out a breath muttering to herself, "Who am i?"
Sheer consuming darkness within her and around her whispered back indecipherable nothings. She let out a scoff. Raking her petite fingers through her silky hair and, looked out to the world outside.
Everything seemed so beautifully stilled and settled like , everything 'belonged '. Soaking the 'too perfect to be true view' ahead of her, she realised somewhere deep down within herself that it was her, it had always been her who didn't 'belong'.
Shuffling her legs to get a better access to the pack of the vicious but tempting cancer sticks huddled deep inside her trousers pockets', she dived her shaky hand in.
Finally having succeeded and cracking a sly smile, took out a stick, placing it in between her chapped lips and lit it up with the lighter already ready for the rescue in her other hand.
Inhaling a gory amount of smoke than she could tolerate, she took the risk. Letting the smoke fill up her insides and having then felt the pressure build up, opened her mouth letting a desperate huff escape.
"What went wrong" ? She questioned the darkness yet again and this time, she was answered back "You."
YOU ARE READING
Solivagant
Non-Fictionexhausted by the ministrations of one's own self. an excerpt from a tale entitled "life".
