She took a breath before she drowned, the stale air in her lungs tried to rise, but she waited till there was some sunrise of hope.
Hope was with everyone who passed the deck, a lot were wealthy with it.
Their hopes would become dreams into reality, but no one would spare, they left her in despair.
Some would let out a hand, tricking her to fall deeper, but without realizing she could create hope herself, because she hoped before she fell.
The blood in her vein pumped as slow as a minute on the clock, even if you smashed out her brain, she would still feel the pain.
The things in her head that made her insane, she was stuck in her mind that killed her every second she was there.
She could not escape the cycle of always dying and being tortured, she tried to even kill her mind to find a breath, but she just forgot to breathe.
Once she could leave her negative mentality, she found peace, then love love, then hope.
It doesn't cost to be nice, help the ones who need it.
About the Creator
Esther M
So much to say, but no one to hear. That's why I came here.
Reaching Out
I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
By Christy Munson4 days ago in Fiction
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