“I’m scared.” I whisper into the dark.
“I know. I was, too.” He answers, stepping forward to hold me. “It’s just a moment of fear, for a forever of peace. Join me.”
I nod my head against him and step to the edge. The whole world spans out beneath me. “Don’t make me go alone.”
He grips my hand. “Never.”
I step forward. My stomach plummets as I cut through the air like a bullet. In the last seconds, I pry open my eyes and realize I am alone.
I was always alone.
About the Creator
PS Luvell
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My First Ring
I was nineteen when I wore my first ring, and it wasn’t diamond-studded or heirloom-worthy. There was no velvet box, no trembling proposal, no audience holding its breath. It was simple, thin, and slightly loose on my finger. But to me, it felt enormous—heavy with meaning, expectation, and a quiet kind of bravery I didn’t yet know how to name.
By Engr Bilal5 days ago in Fiction
Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts6 days ago in Longevity
Comments (1)
powerful!