Image by Omar Mustafa
On the edge of the bed, hands clasped between her knees, she sat alone, feeling nothing, wanting nothing, except, perhaps, death.
Time, swiftly, not so quietly, and not particularly kind to her, had flown by. How was that even possible? How could a life lived in constant fear, misery, and hidden bruises, actually fly by? Somehow, it had. The time to end it all had arrived.
Her cat, Erebus, as dark as the thoughts in her mind, entered the room, looking up at her, meowing as he approached. On any other day, she’d say something in return – anything to acknowledge his presence, show him some affection, making him feel welcome. Today, however, wasn’t just any other day.