money

money

Abby Crowell
2/9/16
Block 3
Death
Death is a word that is used to name the event of someone leaving the world. What is fails to name the pain and sorrow people experience when there loved ones leave them and enter into an unfamiliar world. But it also doesn’t give a name to the people who experience death and its fearsome realities. It is all unknown. No body knows death, those who do are not around to tell the story. It is easy to day death is inevitable for many of us. Death may not be something that many of us like to think about, but it does cross our minds, especially when someone important to us dies, when we are in situations where death seems likely or when we are comforting someone who is facing death. We all will experience death in some way.
Thirsty. Dry mouth, aching stomach, scratchy throat, itchy skin. Thirsty.
Water? Is that water? I'm in it. I open my mouth, for half my face is submerged and take a gulp before I can muster opening my eyes. So thirsty. The water doesn't taste correctly and makes my stomach cramp, but I gulp again and again until I choke.
Sputtering, I yanked my head up, splashing water over the rim of the tub I'm curled up on my side in. I cough and hack and my chained hands clatter loudly against the side of it. The end of my chain is hooked to the ceiling above my head and I'm thankful it's long enough that my shoulders aren't dislocated yet. He never did like using regular handcuffs. Especially not after the last time I hitched them and ditched them, I'm sure. Heavy iron chains with links an inch round for me.
Still panting and trying to catch my breath, I whip my head to the side to fling my wet hair out of my eyes. Damn Tony for slipping those sleeping pills into my tea last night. His heart had been in the right place, worried over my sleeping three hours a week. His kindness has killed me.
Jack had come all the same, taking advantage of my drugged state. I doubt it had been any sort of feat for him to...

Similar Essays