$hort$tories

The Inevitable

 Death is inevitable. I've always known that. Always. From the moment when my grandfather collapsed on the ground, wheezing out his last breath, to the death of my mother, two nights ago. Death. A small word that has so much meaning. Death can be happy or sad, depending on how you look at it. Some believe in heaven, and others hell. Heaven, hell, the underworld. Do they exist? That's a question.

   And who will bring it is always the quesiton. Does the devil bring death? Or even God, because it's the person's "time to go"? Or Hades, or Zeus, if they even exist? Or a black knight riding on the back of a night-mare? That's also a good question. Who shall bring it? Where shall you go? Unanswered questions. No doubt, you believe that you go somewhere after death. I didn't. Well, yeah. I didn't. Past tense.

   As the specialist on death, it actually surprised me that death came by your lips. You gentle kiss, the last earthly thing I felt. The whisper of goodbye in my ear was the last thing I heard. Your cold eyes with no regret was the last thing I saw. The only pain I felt was from the cold blade embedded in my stomach. Oh, and of course, the pain in my heart filled with betrayl. And the gasp of certain revenge was the last thing I ever said. Before I crumpled to the ground. Silent. Cold. Dead.