As I watch my blood drip to the floor, staining each memory that I had before.
Drop by drop I get weaker, as my puddle of blood gets deeper. As I look to the heavens, and to the sky, I think to myself "this is it, this is my time to die."
Terrified of the thought of dying as crossed my mind, as my last drop of blood hits the floor, I know I'm no more.
Looking back at the times I had, some were good, and some were bad. It's hard for me to breathe now, it's hard for me to see, I can't move my body, death is getting closer to me.
But who is this evil man coming close to me? He looks like the devil, but it's hard for me to see. He looks down at me with his red evil eyes, taking me over with his torturing cries.
I try to scream for help, but no one is around except for me, and him going beneath the ground. I guess I thought God would accept me, even when I cut my wrists, because everybody dies some how, and I died like this.
