I feel the cold air clinging to my lungs, the frozen earth beneath me, keeping me from the warm embrace of death with its powerful soil.
Is this all that was meant for me? To die? In my life, was there ever- . . . Was there ever any hope for me to cling to at all? . . .
. . .
Where is everyone I ever knew?
If I were to die here, would they know?
. . .
I pull my hand out from under me, its bones brutally shattered by the fall. I cling helplessly to the dirt in front of me, clawing out for my life.
I roll over with the last of my strength, staring up at the unforgiving blackness of the night sky. The stars that bore me and watched over my life- they stare at me. . . bearing down upon me. Disappointed.
I feel my breath beginning to escape from me, each time coming back lesser and lesser, the adrenaline rushing to my head, the blood turning me hotter than a furnace.
I don't want it to end like this. This isn't fair. If I must die, must I die alone?
Please, help me. This isn't what I wanted.
Don't let it end this way.
Nona. . . please, help me. I don't want this to be the end. This world needs you. I need you.
