Destiny Is Demise
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- Parts 5
I'm Kurt Cobain. What were my chances of living? Or dying for that matter? Who thought I'd have put a gun to my chin? Well me I guess, I'm the one who did it after all. I'm neither dead nor alive. I don't know why. Neither do you, or anyone else, but I'm going to find out. People who don't like me, who discriminate, run while you can. But my fans, read for God's sake, for this is my story, the story of rock God, Kurt Cobain.
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The strip of leather made contact with the skin on my back. The burning pain soared and I had to grit my teeth so no noise came out. I've lost count. I can't even remember the number of times he has brought the whip down onto my back. The burning sensation cooled and for a few seconds I thought the torture had finished but my thoughts soon came crashing down. Instead of being mauled by the whip, I heard a crunch as the bones in my torso were crushed by a heavy booted foot kicking me in the side. I grunted in pain. I had been in this cell for God knows how long and it was now probably some time in the evening. "Trying to be clever are we?" His voice booms out, his voice makes me flinch. "That's what you think smart ass. But I was trying to protect her." I replied back. I shouldn't have said that because moments later I'm kicked again in the side; this time so hard that I can feel a rib sink into one of my lungs. I fly towards the opposite wall in the cell, landing on my back. The specks of dirt and dust dig into the deep cuts on my back making me suck in a quick breath. I grunt and try to get up onto my feet but I feel a firm grip on the base of my neck. Before I know it, my feet are no longer touching the ground and I'm struggling for air. This is it. I'm dying. It's all over. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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