Death

Dead. Dying. Hoping that I won't see the end but knowing it's coming. I haven't died yet but I feel the cold embrace wrap around my shoulders, hear the whispering of the fallen angel telling me to go to sleep, and it will all be over. My eyelids struggle to stay up and my muscles start to lose control. My arms are asleep, my mouth unable to move. I try to scream but all that comes out is a laugh. A horrible laugh that tells me that this is the end. I look around for someone, anyone, to help me, to pull me out of this cold embrace, but there isn't anyone. I am alone. I will always be alone. The last thing I see is myself. I am looking at myself in a mirror but this isn't me. This is the person I didn't want to become. Who can save me now? Who is willing to help me change. You can't though. It's to late. I had my chance to change and I chose wrong and now it's me against the world.