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The Bitter End

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The Bitter End

“It’s over, isn’t it?”

It doesn’t feel over, but then again, I’ve never died before. I don’t know which wound hurts the most: the big, bleeding one on my torso, or the one on my soul caused by the crippling realization that everything has come to a bitter end.

“I suppose so,” he says, laying beside me on the grass. I figure he’ll die first; his injury is a lot deeper than mine, and while my blood comes out in a trickle, his gushes, like it cannot stand the idea of being in a human body any longer. We’ve been preying on each other’s downfall for so long, I’m surprised at how much seeing him like this horrifies me. A mere day ago, this would’ve been exactly what I wanted, but now, the whole ordeal is just so dystopian and horrific, I wonder if any of this had been worth fighting for.

I realize how pointless a human life can really be. Just like everyone else, we were born, sent to school, and asked what we wanted to be when we grew up, but all our lives amounted to was this. Our memories, all the things we learned, they no longer matter. In a few more gruesome moments, along with our physical bodies, they’ll simply cease to exist. I’m much too empty and numb to cry about this, but it leaves a sharp, painful pang in my heart regardless.

“Well, for what it’s worth, it was nice knowing you,” I say, because I figure kindness is the only valuable thing we have left to give.

Who was once my greatest enemy smiles and looks over at me. His eyes are the same as they’ve always been, and I have another realization, a bit too late: the kindness was within us all along, and we’d just been allowing the hate to win. Choking a bit, he says, “All the same to you. It was a pleasure.”

He tries to continue, but suddenly he chokes for a bit too long, then whatever had been in his eyes leaves them, and there’s no doubt that he’s dead.

I just stare back up at the sky, feeling so alone in this vast, empty field, waiting for my turn.

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© 2022 StellaRoseJones

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