aqiliswritinghere
The stencil laid in my hand as I crushed it. The pain of the flowing blood was too much. My head was spinning. My breathing was slowing. My world was coming crashing down.
And that was how I died.
The man was selling knives. Beautiful, silvery things, they were.
But they failed to keep him safe from the bullet.
A gunshot was heard. Everyone panicked. The madman who shot the vendor was brought to jail. He's to be hanged.
It's quite boring in this cell of mine.I just hope death comes soon.
"Un, deux. Un, deux. Alli, Pick up zhe pace!"
The ballet instructor was killing me. We were the only two left in the studio.
I saw the knife, and I took a chance.
Goodbye, Madame Bonnefoy.
My scalp is void of any hair. It is clean, beautiful. Cancerous.
I walk outside, wondering when death will take me, seeing all these people.
Alive. I die.
The stampede of bulls rushed towards me. Trusty dogs circled the larger bulls with the loudness of a dying whale's swan song.
But, alas, some of us, didn't come out.
Among them was me.
The letter was stamped. It was going to be sent to her adress.
I left a nervous man. Hopefully, she'll receive it and read it and get back together with me.
As I walk, a flash of red.
Nothing.