I close my eyes and accept fate, choking slowly, no longer panicking but accepting, as blood sours my sense of taste and I gag and fumble at the grass, hot and sticky with the essence of my life, beneath my palms. I’m struggling to breathe, heart giving in, unable to fight while my body is broken and shattered. Paused and waiting for the final snap to end this agony and suffering.
The sudden wrenching of the hands around my neck makes me spasm in response, so in tune with the final blow, but instead of relief from this plane to the next, I’m set free. Dropped hastily so my face collides with the damp, stinking grass and the taste of my own blood is rammed backwards as I inhale forcefully. My throat is released, and the flash of air that whooshes by me turns my gaze to follow, weakly, the
