"Curiosity is over. I stepped down from the car. He pulled a gun from his jacket, said I was going to die."
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I drove to the middle of no-where yesterday and knocked on death's door, only to be pulled from the dream by reality's cold hands. It has the kind of grip you expect from death - bony, but strong (frozen through and through). Death was the warm one, inviting me to sit at the hearth.
I sat and warmed my hands over the dull glow of the embers, "They're fading," he said, "Because you're going to die." I felt cool metal meet the back of my neck. "It's a shame you're only a kid - you didn't get to live much of life," his voice cooed into my right ear, breath tickling my skin like the summertime breeze. "Then again," he added, mercilessly, "Maybe I'm doing you a favour, taking you from the world before it shows its true colours."
Click.
"Say goodbye, kid." He finished, cooly, pulling his face from mine, "Say goodbye."
I sat and warmed my hands over the dull glow of the embers, "They're fading," he said, "Because you're going to die." I felt cool metal meet the back of my neck. "It's a shame you're only a kid - you didn't get to live much of life," his voice cooed into my right ear, breath tickling my skin like the summertime breeze. "Then again," he added, mercilessly, "Maybe I'm doing you a favour, taking you from the world before it shows its true colours."
Click.
"Say goodbye, kid." He finished, cooly, pulling his face from mine, "Say goodbye."
"It gives me so much satisfaction, to watch you beg and cry. Well I just made up this story, to get your attention (makes me smile)."
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