One Hour More- a whizzvin fanfic

One hour more One hour more

They say after you die, your brain still has seven minutes of activity.

Seven minutes.

Seven minutes to relive everything you have ever done, where the good and the bad flash in front of your eyes. Time slows and crumbles as it defies its rules and it leaves you, quiet for a second amongst the chaos.

Watching as the broken relationships and your worst experiences bite and snap at you, unable to get close enough as they strain at their leashes like rabid dogs.

But they can't reach you unless you let them, although sometimes they worm their way in, pulling you towards them, making you need to grab them, to reach out to them, your curiosity spiking as you need to relive them, even though the pain was almost too much to bear the first time.

Almost.

Instead, you try to focus on the good ones.

But the bad ones are stubborn, the bad ones come back, they always do.

They always always do.