Your Death

Imagine this: An old building, dark red bricks crumbling from the seams of the structure. The windows are cracked and partially opened, some are nailed shut with wood. Trees are growing endlessly around the framework, but hidden inside the fenced area. The sky is dark, almost stormy and gloomy, consisting of shadowy clouds, hovering over the sketchy building. The only living thing that remains inside the fenced operation are the bits of nature growing on the wetland.