Eager

I close my eyes, not wanting to see the darkness. I cover my ears, not wanting to hear the scream. Yet my heart races and it's real, not a dream. A white fug clouds my mind, erasing my wishful tone.

Blood spills and I smell its sweetness. I gag-unable to bear the stench, Thru my closed eyes, tears fall. I feel their icey descent down my pail cheeks. Welcoming the pain, this is unbareable.

Trying to relax, I hold my breath. My heart slows, yet every beat is more painful than the last. My chest heaves, and soon I breath. My lungs cryout thru my chest, and I gasp for air.

Like the smell, the air is unbareable. It pains me, yet keeps me going. Its iceyness covering up my own hearts. To wipe my tears, I unplug an ear. A scream echoes, and I feel its demented sorrow.

My eyes flutter open in shock, and I see her pain stricken grimace. It is frozen, like my tears, and they once more poar. Dead, like a statue, she lays, her eyes solumnly pasted on my own face.

Cringing, I hug my arms and repeat to myself, ''This is not real." But every time I say it, I am stricken harder with the cruelty of reality. Minuets go by and I realize, I'm probley next.

A large, wooden door swings open, and I hear the loud obnoxious sound of footsteps. Only now do I look any higher than my shoulders, that were by now, shaking uncontrolably.

Red, bloodshot eyes swing into my own, as a man frowns discustedly at me. He kicks me in my stomache, and I double over, feeling blood escape thru my pail, dry, lips.

I smile, my pain would end soon, and I will be free. I put happy pictures of a snowcaped mountain, and a large flowered medow into my mind. Tracing them over and over until they are imprinted there.

He, unaware of my eagerness to die decides to try to torture me. I have seen him do this to the other prisioners. He always acts like he is about to slit our wrists, just to make us cringe in fright.

But I am not afraid. Tho I act it, so that he will carry on. And he does. Slipping out the blade from its hidden place, he maliciously grins. I act afraid as he grabs my wrist, so that he will carry on.

And as he slides the bade just above my wrist, I shove my arm upwards.

A scarlet colored liquid oozes from my wrist, and I cry out in joy. As life goes dark, I see him get up, and leave the room.