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The End of Me
I am in a cold, dark endless passageway. How I got there, perhaps, God doesn't even know. There is nothing here; it is devoid of everything that makes a man sane. It is devoid of everything. I can not even feel the warmth of my own skin. Memories are all gone. I do not know even who I am. My identity is stolen. Is this death? I do not know. At the end of this long, winding tunnel of shadow, or should I say void of a world, lies a glimmer of light, barely bright enough to even be considered light, but in this dark, dreary tunnel, even a faint source as this could be considered a sun in its own sense. The glimmer in reality however, was more like a single, distant star in the night sky standing there alone, making a defiant stand, and trying not to be overcome by the darkness. I try walking to it, as it represented a hope of escaping this endless hell built specifically for me, but then again, hope is something you have when you can not believe anymore. Seconds, hours, days, weeks, months, years, decades, or maybe even millenniums pass, but exactly how much time passes, I do not know. There is no need for time here, as forever is forever and that never changes whether I wish it or not. At one point, I can go no further. My mind is telling my weary body to go on, but my body is saying to give up. In the end, physical exhaustion wins out. My arms are not like lead, but becomes lead itself. My legs are now stones anchored deep into the dark shadows. I have no energy left to even collapse. I stand motionless, pondering what will happen next. Will I die here or am I already dead? All these question go through my mind, each one for a few seconds, or was it millenniums? Even crawling forward slowly inch by inch is now a distant dream. My will power does not slowly crumble; it all goes away at once with a strength more potent than Lucifer's mindly draw. The only thing that has kept me going up to this point was my will power, as the strength of every cell in my body was robbed out of me the very instant I had arrived to this forsaken place, but now all my strength is completely gone. I am now nothing. I have finally given up, both mentally and physically. I am no closer to the light source than when I first started. After all, one could never reach the stars, but only stare at them admiringly from a distance. No one is here to help me. Mother, father, brother, sister, grandmother, grandfather, man, or women: nobody is here; I am all alone. How much longer will this go on? I do not know the answer. The only thing I do know however is that there is no turning back. I am nothing, just a tiny, worthless speck in this darkness. My identity is gone. Nobody is here besides me to comfort me, to take care of me, to keep me company, or even just to suffer with me. I do not think I shall ever escape this place. I’ve finally met my match. This is the end of me.
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