In Your Last Days

Death is not the easiest thing to come to terms with, when you know it can greet you at any given day. Mary had gone a full week without eating, just consuming the bare minimum of bread and water. She hadn’t left the house in almost two weeks and was letting herself go to waste.  I can’t go out there it’s going to get me, death, home is the safest place to stay. Like many, Mary was afraid to die. She couldn’t imagine the horrific pain that comes with it.

One morning, Mary decides that she would not be pushed away in fear. She tried making herself breakfast. The usual eggs, toast, and turkey bacon. For some strange reason when marry prepared the food she felt that she had control over, because she was devouring animal flesh for her breakfast. She made herself a cup of coffee, the coffee was so ho that when she places it on the table it started melting the plastic table cover. Sitting down with her food at the table, she starts devouring the food acting as if she was a deranged animal. She reaches for the molten hot coffee, when something catches her eye. Long gray fingers on the table. There was a paralysis and she was afraid to look up.

The fingers started to move. Gaining enough courage, she traces a path for her eyes to follow up the arm of the “thing” sitting in front of her. As she looked to where a face was supposed to be, it was nothing just a black hole. The figure held a clock in its other hand. She noticed that from the clock was a black line that was connected to her. Mary had never seen this.

On the line she noticed that some parts had started to fade. And by the look of it Mary didn’t have much time left.

“Omg this can’t be happening Mary said, as she threw the coffee at the figure. It didn’t budge, once the coffee touched the sleeve of the figure it turned to steam. What type of evil was Mary running from. Mary ran up the stairs, the black line followed as the figured stayed, planted at the kitchen table. Mary knew what she had encountered but she did not want to face the reality of it all. What she had seen sitting with her at the kitchen table was the grim reaper, and he was here because Mary would soon die.

“Why me? I’m not ready and don’t deserve to die just yet.” However, there was a reason that Mary had been the main target for death. She had been using black magic for own dark purposes. Two years ago, Mary had started using black magic to kill little kids that would torment her on the block. The kids call Mary the witch on the block and vandalized her house. Weeks later a young boy and girl were found with their mouths sewn shut near Mary’s house. Mary tapped into one of the feared forms of cursing voodoo. However, what Mary forgot to think about was the consequences of messing with voodoo and her last days on earth.

As she would move and walk around the house the black line never left her body but followed her the figure once more did not move. It sat and the table and waited patiently until it was time to act.  As the days followed Mary started to become weak. She was back to barely eating. In the late afternoon, Mary founded herself coughing violently, with clots of blood coming out. She couldn’t breath as she gasped for air. As she stared at her fingers she noticed that they had turned black as well as her toes. Mary tried to walk across the floor, yet her toes and fingers started to fall off. Mary feel to the floor and slammed her head on the floor. She couldn’t get up. Then from the kitchen she saw as the reaper got up from the chair that it had been sitting at for three days. She could not hear footsteps, then suddenly she feels a pressure on her back she could not yell or scream. She could then feel a burning sensation inside her chest, it was like needles all over her body, and then she went cold.

Mary was dead. The grim reaper had come and retrieved one hell ridden soul. There was no way for Mary to outrun the game of death. Six feet deep, six feet under a cold stiff body lays in slumber.

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Shanika

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