the art of dying; on hiatus

1: plastic stars

✦ 𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝟭✦

|Juliette|

IF I COULD BE anywhere, I surely wouldn't be on my bed in a Saturday night, staring at the ceiling. I watched the plastic moons and stars glow in the dark on my ceiling, the glow slowly fading away by time. Each piece of plastic shined softly, twinkling in the dark, as if indirectly winking at me... It was the only source of light there was around my room, other then that, I shared the room with pitch darkness. The ability to not see anything, just somehow calmed me.

I kicked my blanket that seemed to be tied with my ankles to the ground lazily. Once the baby blue blanket fell to ground, I was eventually dragged to the ground too, with a loud thud, I fell. I groaned, placing my hand on my hip, and trying to rub it, eventhough I was somehow stuck in some blanket cucoon.

Ah, kocak memang...

I blinked a few tears away, that were on the bridge of falling, as I squinted my eyes at the darkness. Absolutely no hair had been covering my sweaty head, because I had absolutely no hair on my head. That was one of the pros of having chemo treatment, there was no useless need to go to the hair salon every few months with my mother or to try and blow my pesky hair out of my face at these times. I huffed in annoyance at the position I was in, by now I predicted my mother would come out bursting through my door with a broom and some teary eyes, but she didn't.

I kept on waiting patiently until my mother would come crashing in with a tsunami of feelings. I counted the minutes one by one.

Satu

Dua

Tiga

Empat

Lima

Masih aja belum.

I sighed when I realized, she probably was catching up with her sleep, these days she's been so hard on herself...

After a while of silence, I decided since anytime in my life I probably won't be able to get into this position again, I may as well enjoy it.

So I rolled around with my blanket on the floor, like I was some rolling pin on dough. I have to admit though, I enjoyed it more than I thought I could.

Sadly, me rolling around, pretending to be a rolling pin around the floor didn't count as acting.

I just continued to roll around endlessly, thinking about the possibilities that could come into my life, before the door slammed open. Light flooded my room, and I squinted my eyes in sheer fright as I saw a figure by the door frame. I had watched too many horror movies to know that I would probably be the dumb blonde who would get killed first. I gulped in fear, how was I supposed to throw a Jackie Chan when I'm literally interwining with my blanket?

This was the end, I was over. Just like in every horror movie to exist, I would end up dead. If this was going to be my last breath, I had to make some humble ass quote before I die.

Eh, what the fuck? I was going to die anyways...

Okay, that was not a good quote.

I don't even know what I was expecting, when the figure started to walk towards my limp body. Beads of sweat decorated my caramel skin as the figure, slowly crouched to get down on the same level as my face.

So this is how i die, killed by an psycotic murderer in my own bedroom. I'll be waiting till the papers finally show my face; 'Girl Dies Wrapped In A Blanket'.