The Death Of Death - Original Writing Essay
I woke up screaming that night. Calling out to an empty room. Calling out to someone who wasn’t there. Screaming for him to stop. But still, no one was there. I was all alone, drowning in silence. That still silence that seemed to hang around me wherever I went. It was deafening. I could feel it roaring past my ears as I suffocated in it. And in my mind I was just yelling for someone to stop it. Stop this madness. Stop it from consuming me. Even the tiniest of movement from the corner of my eye made me jump in fear. I tried to calm down, but he told me that fear is good. That I should accept this feeling. He told me to lay down, rest my head upon my pillow. He told me to close my eyes and think of good things.
That’s when he plunged the knife into my chest.
And I woke up screaming. Calling out to an empty room. Calling out to someone who wasn’t there. Screaming for him to stop. But still, no one was there. I was all alone, drowning in silence. I desperately looked around the room, searching for a familiar sight. My thoughts cleared a small amount and I was conscience enough to make a rational choice. I pinched my arm, and relief flooded through my body when I could feel the small pain. Yes, I thought, I’m awake. My eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room and I noticed my dresser. Another wave of relief flooded through me. I was in my own room. I didn’t know what I expected, not being in my room? But I was, and I was safe.