The End

It’s cold here, where no one believes in you. It’s lonely here, where there is nothing to hope for. It’s dark here, where the silence is your saviour, and your tormentor. It’s scary here, where your worst nightmare, is you.
The rain starts to fall, and for a moment, the weather seems to shed my tears, before the blinding lightening unleashes the insane cackle of thunder. The light died a long time back, and I slump huddled against the trees, trying to coagulate the last vestiges of warmth. As the forked white tongue of the serpent of the sky flickers in the distance, I glimpse my fate in these haunted eyes. Lucifer is coming, and God has forsaken me. He has run away to his sheltered abode, and left me for dead. When my destiny sounds its arrival, rustling through the grass, I can no longer feel the temperature. I stand to meet it, I stand to meet him. I am thinking of you. He does not smile, he does not gloat. He raises his hand, and ends the torture. I wearily rise above my abode for the past 18 years, silently, without despair, not a backward glance. Bliss does not await me, but it promises more than what I left behind.