The Last Breath

Pixabay

I don't know how I ended up there. There's darkness, ice that doesn't touch my skin because I already lack it, and this blue light that exposes me.

I get carried away. At first I believed I was dreaming, but fear took over as I tried to move my arms and found nothing. I am physically deficient.

I am only a facade hanging in the abyss, a fusion of mist and memories. I try to exhale, but the lungs are missing. I try to shed tears, the more eyes are missing.

There are only two hollow cavities that devour the surrounding gloom, dread swallows me and I execute the one thing possible: scream. Shouting at the top of my lungs, I open my mouth as wide as possible until my cums seem to tear. Shouting for help, squealing curses at the fatal woman, screaming about the life memory that was taken away from me.

But not a trace of voice emerges, the stillness is total, My roaring is everlasting, set in that second of infinite suffering. And the pejorative of it all, what truly makes me demented, is not emptiness.

But not long ago, in the shadows, I saw another pale face floating away. He's also screaming. And it bears a great resemblance to mine.