credit
The fumes perforated your lungs and burnt large gaps making every desperate gasp feel like you were swallowing fires from the pits of Hell. You’re drowning in a pool of acid, your eyelids dissolving and your sclerae corroding into a puddle of your liquid flesh. Flames lick at your skin and you can see Hades standing beside you with a white-hot brand in his hand, which he presses to your thigh. You scream in agony, a terrible noise of silence and the dogs of hell howl in frenzy at your muted cries.
Doctors tell you that you’ve burned half your limbs off. Your mom comes in and cries for hours at end, your dad just puts his hands on her shoulders and rubs soothing circles on her back. Your girlfriend sobs and kisses your bandaged fingers and tells you about how lucky you were that your friend had swerved wildly at the last possible second. True, he got killed, but he died a hero and he would’ve been glad to see you live.
You’re living on borrowed time, a second chance that was given to you when you didn’t ask for it. Hooray for your sweet life as a survivor - you’re eating healthy, studying to be a theoretical physicist and riding dirtbikes. Nobody knows that your heart stopped beating long ago, when a sepulchral god beckoned at you with bony fingers to claim what was rightfully his. Hooray for your escape from the clutches of death. You should be happy.
~ hannah p
