The next ti I wake up my limbs are heavy as rocks from the overuse and abuse and every ti my lungs fill with air not only themselves hurt, wheezing with the constant burning from the lack of air when I fought against the river, but from brushing against the many internal injures and broken bones I must have at this point, hopefully not being punctured by any broken bones.
And at this instance is not a matter of strength, not a matter of will anymore, is a matter of my limbs being so numb that they don’t respond to my commands anymore, of pushing myself over my limits and paying the price for it all in tiredness, pain and heaviness of a sickened body brought too close to death too many tis in the space of re minutes.
Funny how ti works, no one blinks an eye at losing so minutes on daily basis, but a few of those were enough to overturn my life and kill my hopes and dreams.
I’m left with a mind full of thoughts and worries in a stiff frozen body to wait for my death, lullabied by the sound of the crashing freezing waves resonating far too close to be a comfort, sotis reaching my feet and leg, adding to keep my body cold and rigid in place as my heart fills with not pure fueling anger anymore, but with sadness and grief, tiredness above all.
Have I co this far only to die like this? Die as that scrupulous lion wished of , to leave my mother alone in this world under the paws of that prick? To have my small existence disappear just like this?
So young, so full of life and dreams and wishes, and yet I would disappear without leaving much of a mark, a stan in this world, and the few who would miss are probably already dead.
That was not a comforting thought to have, and between my imminent death and the loss of my friends and ho, my mind keep rotating in between, a feverish turmoil of thoughts that would blend in with hallucinations and dreams as my conscious keeps drifting back and forth, but keeping the thoughts alive as a form of punishnt, almost papable as is.
None of the thoughts that kept alive thus far, that made fight against all odds through the pain and the fear, that had managed to make my body move before were enough now, my limbs feeling like they were detached from my body, made of rock and steel and weighing down as I had crossed far beyond the limits of my small body, and for so reason the sensation feels familiar, as I’ve been in this kind of situation before, and I can almost believe it so as, among the pain, my conscious cos back and forth and between images of my mother, my friends and the High Land, were of tubes, flashing lights, sobbing and small hands, my hands, gripping at a book cover, conflicting with my foggy vision as I try to keep myself grounded by staring at the sand and the closing in waves, alone, hungry and cold, so cold, with no warmth beyond my tears and the flashes of mories from ti to ti.
As I drifted between worlds, feeling the cold settle in my bones and freeze my insides as its deadly grasp reaches deeper and deeper, sothing changes, a sound, movent, sothing around that my foggy mind could not pinpoint.
It may be a beast coming to finish the job, shortening my suffering by giving an excruciating end of being eaten alive while being unable to move or react, perhaps even scream was beyond my battered body by now, how pitiful, how shaless, to die like this, unmoving at the rcy of such creature, but I can only wish it to be done quicker than wintering away like this, slowly being consud by my own thoughts, mories of short lives blending together.
Only that, expecting a salivating grown to approach, I am surprised when I hear a voice, but instead of relief I’m left to wonder what the person is up to, after all I’m a beast, hurt, and an easy prey right now, and a beast would be much simpler to predict, but a human I can only hold my breath and wait for the butcher knife to descend.
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