It’s funny how death seems to slow down time.
How you can feel your lungs fill with ache. Each breath taken inflating them a little less every time air runs through them. How your blood gives the impression to turn into molten metal struggling to circulate inside your veins. Or how the heart, at first, beats rapidly, as if trying to help you catch your breath before slowly realizing it is a rather pointless task. I never felt so alive before experiencing agony. How heavy this weak body was nor how strong its fight against the inevitable could be.
I fell, but mostly, I failed. Yet again. I lay miserably on the floor, my head turned towards the golden light shining through the arched windows. I watch as my blood progressively stains the ground around me. Who knew blood could have such a deep color nor how much could come out of my body? The fight went so fast, but in these moments of torment, I do not need to think. I meet a short lull, yet it always appears to last forever. And as