It was a bleak day accentuated by the abiding drizzle. It was almost hard to believe that in just a few moments, I would die.
I was just reading my book outside, as Father drunkenly approached, dragging his bad foot like an injured dog.
The broken bottle had blunt edges. It didn't look dangerous. Not even Father's deprived sanity had warned me of my fate. I should have sensed the danger in his expression.
I can still vividly recall the glass coming down on my head, the blood dripping down my face as my life slipped away.
Only dearest Mother weeps at my grave.
-100-words-
