12/1/2018, 03:18 pm
Yesterday a bus almost stepped me over, and guess what was my reaction?
Nothing, absolutely nothing.
My mother's friend freaked out and pulled me roughly to her side. She kept on asking if I'm fine and she rambled on and on about how I should be careful.
I only replied by one thing and that is, "He's the one at fault."
'He' referred to the bus driver who didn't take his eyes off me as I continued to walk away as if nothing happened, as if I wasn't just about to die.
I'm not scared of death.
It will come anyways, whether I'm scared or not.
Death isn't scary, it's normal.
I'm not scared.
YOU ARE READING
One Last Miracle
Short StoryDying. That's how she is. Dying. -- Miracles happen and one of them is the desire to write her thoughts in a worn out copybook. So she does and she hopes when she's gone, anyone would find it. That's the only way to ensure she won't be forgotten.
