the best form of mercy.

"do you really want to know?" he smirked. without stopping, he went on, his voice as clear and chilling as the night that i imagined swallowed us whole. "her body will decay after they put her in the ground. she will house maggots and mold, and she will smell of the dirt she lies within. the coffin will cave, and what is left of her by then, along with the chips and splinters will be lost to oblivion. as if she never existed."

i couldn't stop a tear, and then felt ashamed. after all, i hardly knew her. however, now that she was defined by her death, everything about her that i personally experienced was amplified and deafening. of course, that was because i had my part to play in this farce. my emotions and actions are at war with each other, i thought to myself, fighting the urge to gag at the bile i could feel rising at the back of my throat. the bile i could taste. as bad as i felt, nothing could prepare me for feeling worse at the breath that was my own, as it formed the words:

"then she will have nothing more to do with me."

a snippet from the book that is coming along nicely, though i doubt it will be completed any time soon. hope you enjoyed it as much as i loved dreaming it up. comments and criticism, as always, is very welcome.