BITTER ANGEL

JANE SMITH

I'M A UNIQUE WRITER IN MY OWN WAY. I WRITE POEMS, SHORT STORIES, NOVELS AND SO ON. MY SPECIALITY IS PARANORMAL AND FANTASY. BUT I CAN BASICALLY WRITE ANYTHING.

1 articles

April 12, 2019

I woke up feeling different today. I tried to ascertain why I was feeling weird, and strange. It then hit me like a block, everything dawned on me in an instant.

 Today, I was going to die.

 I tried hard to sniffle in my tears, I have been preparing myself for this day. I have been preparing myself for this day for the past twenty years. I accepted my fate, and in turn, fate has accepted me.

 The house was not lively, it was as if a dark entity was lurking like an evil bird. Even the colors of my room had turn into black. All I could see was the angel of death blowing it's cursed trumpet to a beautifully wicked tune.

 The song captivated my soul, my heart, and my body. The trumpet called to my inner being. That moment, I knew that I was going back to where I belonged. To where the likes of me dwelled in for eternity.

 Like a kid that was presented with a cotton candy I followed the sound of the trumpet, my gaze planted firmly on the angel that was dressed in black, the only atom of light in him were his eyes that was shining brightly. His eyes were so white that you could mistake it for the snow. I strode forward to him, never for once breaking eye contact.

Mourning could be heard in the background, my family was mourning for me. My home was mourning for me. But I couldn't do anything, I couldn't keep living here, I was going back to where I belonged. To where I was meant to be.

 I blocked away their bitter mourns, without hesitation I embraced the angel of death.

 And it engulfed me in his beautiful darkness.

©JANE SMITH

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JANE SMITH

I'M A UNIQUE WRITER IN MY OWN WAY. I WRITE POEMS, SHORT STORIES, NOVELS AND SO ON. MY SPECIALITY IS PARANORMAL AND FANTASY. BUT I CAN BASICALLY WRITE ANYTHING.

1 articles

April 12, 2019


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