Like A Motherfucking Baby

Oh, my God…

It’s the same one.

Exactly the same one.

You’re absolutely sure of it.

Abruptly, realization and memory set in so quickly it makes your head spin. Your eyes fly open in a mix of shock and panic. All the heaviness in your eyelids is instantly forgotten they lift reflexively from the sudden wave of fear and anxiety washing over you; feelings of dread and confusion that are quickly replacing the sense of calm and ease you felt just moments before.

Oh, God…

This can only possibly mean one thing:

You’re dead.

Oh god, oh god, oh god…

You overdosed on the sleeping pills and died in your sleep.

No, no, no, no…I can’t be dead. There’s just no way…

God, I knew I should have just taken two capsules! Fuck! Why didn’t I just follow the directions? The one time I break the lawout of desperation, no lessand I die for it! Other people do community service or do time, but me? I have to die because I take three pills instead of two?

Your mind is on fire, panicking and on overdrive, partially in denial but mostly afraid that your daunting speculation of your death will be confirmed.

The rest of your body is coming to, albeit slowly as it takes its sweet time trying to catch up to your sizzling brain and your twitchy eyes, now rapidly darting left and right as you actively blink away all remnants of drowsiness.

Seconds later, you feel your eyes widen, the skin around them stretching as they bulge without your permission.

You blink several times despite your new alertness and clarity, not to clear any haziness away from your eyes, but to make sure that you’re certain of what lies before you. To make sure that you’re not just imagining the breathtaking image staring you right in the face.

The image of…


The reaper.

Sleeping like a motherfucking baby.

With your wrist in his death grip.





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  • Fascinated
  • Happy
  • Sad
  • Angry
  • Bored
  • Afraid

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