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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1588018-Death-at-its-Best
by Karina
Rated: ASR · Non-fiction · Death · #1588018
A story of Death in human form
I feel the pain of the world as thier hate sends me to Hell. Anguished I fall to my knees, but dare not to close my eyes for I have seen death and it knows my name. I reach down and grab the burning soil beneath my feet. The dirt melts from my hands oozing down my arms. I am death. I have seen myself before in the mirror. I kill even dirt. I know no mercy.



I awake with a startle and sit straight up. I must have a fever I think. I only have nightmares when i have a fever. I get up to go to the bathroom to find the thermometor. I walk the halls all the way down to the bathroom. The bathroom door is open. I drag my feet across the floor and stand infront of the sink. I go to reach the Cabinet above the sink and relize that as soon as I touch it it begins to melt. I remove my hand and melted into the cabinet is my hand print. I turn and look at the floor. Black foot prints lead to me. I look down the hall and see black soot footprints all the way from my room to the bathroom.



I run to the mirror and look at my reflection. For the first time I notice my apearence. I have on a long, tight, shimmery red dress. It hugs all my curves perfectly. Over it I have a super long black cloak. I have a black, cross necklace on. Everything about me screams evil. I look cautiously at my head. Two pointy horns protrude from my head. I scream in agony and fall to my knees. I feel the pain of the world as their hate sends me back to Hell. I dare not close my eyes for I have seen death just moments ago and it knows my name.
© Copyright 2009 Karina (karinadoll at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1588018-Death-at-its-Best