Platinum
Everything was shiny and polished, his steps echoed off the glossy floor as he sauntered his way around the vast, barely furnished room.
Was this what heaven looks like? Was it the afterlife? Or was it the entrance to hell?
Marco shook his head at the last idea. No, it couldn't possibly be hell, it looked too nice and inviting for it to be hell.
The room consisted of only a chair, bed, and a dresser that had a tall vase full of marigolds that were all to one side of the room. The furniture just like the color of the room, was white. Marco wasn't even sure where he was, he could be dreaming after all. Maybe if he just woke up he would be back at the training camp with the rest of his friends. He would get his sense of normalcy back.
But everything seemed too real to be a dream. How real the all the furniture looked, how real the way he would hear his footsteps echoing off the walls, he could even smell the marigolds that were filling the room.
Slowly Marco reached out to feel one of the petals of the dying marigolds, he reached so slowly as if the petal would come and snap at him.
That was the moment Marco realized that he wasn't dreaming, there was no way he could go back to see Jean, nor his friends. There was no way he could see his family again. He was dead. Gone. Deceased. He let the soft petal brush his fingertips. He doesn't remember how he died, but he knew that whatever it was, he had been prepared for death anyway.
Marco wanted to cry, scream, shout, break everything in the damned room. He couldn't bring himself to do it, all he did was stand there; feeling numb looking at nothing.
The last words he heard swirled in his mind like a typhoon
"I love you Marco"
