I. Am. Done. It's all to much. The pain. I am weak. The fire is to great for my soul to contain. I can't bleed it from my veins, or burn it from my skin. It leaks from my eyes and burns in my lungs, boiling the damp air within.
I need release from this hell. If I die and go to hell, it would feel as if I were in heaven. The pain would be gone.
I once read a story called The Soldier and Death, and in this story, to enter heaven, the soldier takes 200 souls and a map to heaven from hell. He then journeys to heaven, but at the gates, only the souls may enter. He then let's the souls go, but asks the last soul in line to call him into a magic sack. But the soul forgets, because there is no memory in the afterlife.
So I pray to anyone listening, that there really is no memory the afterlife, so that I can forget the pain and fire.
YOU ARE READING
Unstable (NaNoWriMo)
Short StoryYou think you know what love is? Well you don't. Know why? It doesn't exist. All it is is a chemical reaction in your brain that leaves you unstable. There is a fire burning on the edges of my soul, consuming my sanity.
