The Death Of Me

The Death Of Me

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WpMetadataNoticeUltima pubblicazione gio, feb 4, 2016
I grab my stomach hopeing to find some food soon,You thought. You were walking around a huge city for about four days without much food at all. Your feet were killing you and your stomach was eating you from the inside. I turn a corner and I realize I hit a dead end. Great. Just what need, I thought to myself. I sit down on the floor with my back ugentst the cold wall. My head begins to feel light and my eyes getting dizzy. Then before I new it, eveything went dark and fell asleep. Then all of a sudden, I jolted my eyes open to a sound of someons voice. "Hey!" Someone yells behined you. Your you didnt have enough strength to sit up. You slightly move your head using as much force as possible. You see a tall man in a lab coat covered in stiches, glasses dimming in the light. Your (e/c) eyes fill with fear. "Hey. What are you doing here?" He asked in a low voice. You stay silent. "Dont want to speak eh?" He questioned while putting his hand behined his head scratching.
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No one stopped to look. No one glanced in the alley I cried in. I was tired of this place, so tired of the endless days that stretched out before me. The emptiness in my heart was eating me alive, with no end in sight. My own darkness was swallowing me whole and leaving nothing alive. The tears froze on my bright red cheeks. I was tired of feeling so broken, but most of all I was tired of being so alone. I pulled out the cold heavy weapon from my coat and stared at it. "If someone would look this way," I thought, "If someone would just glance at me and see my pain. I won't do it." There was a man standing in front of me. After he removed the single bullet from my pistol, he handed it back to me, and left. I followed the man at a distance back to his apartment. He knew that I had followed him and waited at the door to let me in. For reasons I cannot explain I entered his tiny apartment. I fell asleep at the table playing with the bullet and woke up to my alarm the following morning. There was a pillow beneath my head, a blanket over my shoulders, and a note that read: "Dear Stranger..."

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