A knife was in me, the cold metallic sharpness was right next to my heart, just above the pulmonary veins. I was catching my breath, laying prostrate, looking into the ceiling would not work, I had to do something. My leg did some dragging, aimlessly. My head was unable to veer itself upwards to scan the place, I placed my bet on my legs so that I could hit something.
Thump. Shish. Thump. Shish. The constant momentum was bringing me to something. As I stretched out my leg for the last pull, I hit a wood work. It shook, I was terrified, I had no chance to avoid this. Embracing the fall with an immense force hitting against the place where the knife was.
ARGH! I shouted in pain, now I’m clamped to the floor with such heavy object, and there is a knife in my chest. I thought, this is it, this is how I die. All of my hope were diminished, I coughed out some blood, this is the end I guess, a slow death, where I would die slowly, waiting painfully for my blood to flow out.
I was losing conscious, hearing faint footsteps, hallucinations? I doubted it was, the dead weight on me was lifted up. My eyes fixated to the saviour. “mothe…” my voice trailed off with a feeble cough.
“I thought I would come back and give you a final goodbye.” anger brewed inside me, hatred was fused with it, but not an ounce of energy was kicked into my system, his hand reached for the knife in my chest. He pulled it out slowly, and sunk it in deeper. I opened my mouth to shout, there was no voice, but just spits of blood splattering all over the place.
“Pleas…” my voice was dying, I was too.
“As you wish.” he walked away. I had reached my limit. Darkness fluttered into life, signifying the prominence of my death accompanied with throes of silence.