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Only her eyes

It is said that when one’s about to kick the bucket they see their life as if it was a movie. That ain’t true: here I am now, next to a machine that is currently mixing the lethal substance that is gonna kill me off, and I can see nothing more than a group of barely faceless shadows behind a glass wall.

None of them has been able to stop me: not the governor, not the priest… they didn’t even succeed with that awful trick of bringing my mother before me. I don’t regret it. I don’t regret anything.

I’d swear I’m starting to feel the poison running through my veins. This is all about to end: I wish there’s only nothingness after this. Please. But right an instant before, behind the glass wall, I discern a pair of eyes. And it’s hers.

Find the original here.

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