He was dead

His body was staring at me with an empty look as I walk over him. He was engulfed by the eternal slumber just as time frozen. I watched around me just to find that there was more of them. I was horrified to see them, all those monks and guards that just a few minutes ago were talking and laughing of me. Now everyone was dead, with no exception. Everyone got the same expression as they seem to have fallen with no resistance.

Perhaps I was to be blamed for this?

I wished so much to never see them or heard of those people again.

A cold feeling ran down my back, a strong shiver pass through my body and I felt the presence of something unseen hovering around me. Something dangerous and terrible was floating beside me at the moment.

Never in my short life had I felt something like this. Not even the hate of the monk that tried to kill me or the impotence I got when I was scolded by my father, the sorrow of losing my mother or the loneliness of the last few days that filled me with despair in this temple.

Nothing compared to this. It was my own survival instinct that was desperately yelling inside of me.

I slowly began to turn my head and body in the direction of that ominous feeling.

A part of me was trying to run from this place and seek refuge at my house, even if I lost myself in the woods, it would be better than to remain here. Yet my own curiosity was in need to be satisfied.

At that moment I watched with my own eyes the very end of life itself, that fleeting moment when a person is about to die.

This was nothing compared to the stories of how the gods of death do their work, or even how the judges of hell condemn souls. This was very different.

To describe it would be difficult, as I don't know many words that can be of any use.

It was a brief moment that transcends time, as a bird that stops its fly in the sky, and if I can try to explain it in simple words I would only say that life is like a thin line that floats in midair just like a thread that disappears into nothingness when the strands are cut.

I think that humans cannot comprehend this process entirely, and that's why everyone has their own idea of what death is like.

But when I watched it, as a six year old girl, I felt a terrible sadness and grief myself, suffering to see someone else's life ending.

But the true terror happened next because watching a dead person is one thing and seeing what actually caused it was entirely different. Few would understand what death is really, even I don't get it quite right.

All life begins and ends, that is a fact. But right at the very end, something appears to devour the thread inside its black existence. It's hard to say it had a real form itself, as it looked as a black spot that slowly disintegrates the existing life in the person. Even now I don't know it something like that really exists in this world.

Then it disappeared as it vanished in the air.

I remained there without blinking or moving a muscle for a few minutes as I stared into the eyes of the dead body.

I exhale and fall into the ground as I try to regain my breath yet my mind remained blank.

What was that all about?

Why did this happen?

After a few hours, I realized that I was still surrounded by dead bodies scattered on the ground. I get up in silence and I slowly go back again through the door and closed it behind me.

I approached the dead man who had tried to end my life and take the sharp object in his hands, a short sword. I took it with me to my room and there I lay to sleep. My mind still did not assimilate what was happening so I decided to rest and think about it during sleep.

I slept for three days.

When I woke up I still had the weapon in my hands and the feeling that the world was no longer the same as before.

A strong smell came to me suddenly so I leave the sword in my bed and wen to check what it was. The bodies near the door and the entrance were starting to rotten due to the heat and rain of the last days.

I watched the body of the guard near the door and imagine about the others outside, yet I did not wanted to approach them. I feared that he will rise and try to hut me, so I kept my distance.

I did my other activities, like walk the aisles, prepare my meal, watch the clouds in the sky, in the interior garden or sleep in my room. But the fetid smell of death was everywhere.

Four days passed.

Then I included in my activities, taking a look at the dead bodies and mourn for what happened. Now I could never go home again, I can´t go to the nearest village or get close to anyone alive or else they will die because of me.

So for hours I blame myself for their deaths. I knew I was innocent and ignorant of my own curse.

Then a week passed.

I no longer wished to continue my life locked here, but it was the only option I had for now. I prayed daily for hours, as all I wanted was that everything to went back to normal, just like it was before coming to this temple. I asked the gods for my own release, I wanted to free me of this curse.

I wanted my life back, I was willing to do anything for it, even if I had to pay for all the deaths I caused that day. I didn´t care anymore about what price I needed to pay, but I wanted that this nightmare to end.

Yet nothing happened.

So again I went to the dead body near the door, and sat looking at him, wondering why he was so angry that day.

Thus the hours passed until I heard screams on the other side of the door. I was so scared when it started, because at last the bodies of the dead had risen and they were coming for me. I kept watching the motionless body of the man in front of me waiting until he wake up and kill me.

But he did not wake up.

My father opened the door and looked at me with disappointment. I perceived sadness and discomfort on his face. From behind him a pair of monks appeared and covered the body with a blanket and took him away.

As they lift the corpse the scent of death filled the entrance again.

-Monster… You shall never leave this place-

Those were the only words I heard from my father that day.

Several women came into the mansion to clean it, including the place where the corpse was trying to remove the foul odor. Other monks brought food again and new guards took the place of the fallen. So everything went back just as the early days of my confinement, but with one difference, my father came here every morning.

Every day I cried as he reminded me of how useless and unworthy I was, then he told me how sad and pathetic my existence was, as my life was worthless and that the only good thing that will ever happen to me would be the cruel fate that awaited me in hell.

-As long as you live I will remember you the deaths you've caused!-

-Twentypeople died because of you!-

-Why did the gods has punished me with a monster like you?-

-All the life you stole from these people will lie on your shoulders forever!-

- You will never find forgiveness for what you did!-

The words of my father were the same every day, as he yelled his hate and frustration at me. People of nearby towns hated me too as the monks spread rumors about a monster that could cause death in people just by watching them.

The years passed and my life seemed as a sad repetition that increased the pain inside my chest.

This routine and solitude had taken over my life and my heart, as I slowly die because all my hopes and dreams are destroyed each day with the harsh words of my father.

I can no longer stand this kind of life.

It's been four years of loneliness and sadness, agony and pain.

That night I went into my room, I lie down and take the short sword of that guard, as I always had under my pillow.

I have decided to end my suffering.