This short story is one I have previously wrote in the past, and already posted on NG. However, since I see that there's only one hour left, I do hope you will allow it.
For this story, I ask that you imagine as if it were being told from a very elderly person who is deeply saddened.
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My time is coming to an end
Everytime I look in the mirror, I see death lingering over my shoulder. I see the wrinkles on my face, and the sadness within my eyes. I can feel it coming, any day now... any hour... any minute. I feel as if I am far too old to even put up a struggle, for my time is coming to an end.
I dont like what the world all around me has turned into. Now a days everyone seems to be in one big rush to get things done. I on the other hand have absolutely nothing to do, but reflect of course. I could usually count on Rose to keep me happy and preoccupied. We would always play our games on our sleek oak coffee table, while the sun shone brightly through our windows.
How I miss my Rose. I never realized how much she meant to me until she left this god forsaken world. Rose knew how to put the sunshine in my heart, even on the ugliest of all days. Her unsurpassed love and caring for me made me the luckiest man on earth. I'm glad she died before me, so she would'nt have to experience the pain that is loneliness with the last few moments of her life.
No... no, it's better that I take that pain rather than her, she deserved to be happy.
I often tend to lay in bed all night looking up at the ceiling. Some nights, without her... without any loved ones, can be unbearable. On those nights, I let go and just cry. Like the three year old boy I once was a long time ago, I pour all my tears into Rose's pillow. Oh god how I miss her.
For the nights where I do get even just a few hours of sleep, I dream of her. I dream of our first date, our first kiss, our wedding. Just about any time I've had with her in which I could remember. Just last night I dreamed of the day we had our picnic in central park. We would lay on the cliche red and white plaid blanket, and look up at the clouds. I extended my left hand, and she gracefully put her right within mine. We pointed out particular clouds that looked like different shapes; one even looked like a heart. But just as I'm about to lean in and kiss her... I awake.
I get up, make my dull and boring breakfast, and read the newspaper. I hate how it seems that there's never anything good to report anymore. I often just see horrible tragedies and even more horrific incidents to the point where my stomach can't even take it. How I yearn for the days where the front page would consist of a man who saved the life of an entire family, just out of the goodness of his heart.
No... life's changed, and I'm sick of it.
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Sometimes I think that I should just kill myself, just to get it over with. There's nobody here that would even care if I did. Hell, I bet it would be a few months before my dead body would be noticed... probably because I hadnt payed my bills, or because my corpse created too much of a rancid smell.
But then I think of my Rose. I know that killing myself wouldn't make me any closer to her. People who committ suicide dont go to heaven, which I know is where she is. It's better to just wait... it's not like I have that much waiting to do anyway.
Yes, I want death to come. I'm not in any pain as it is now... but I want death to knock on my door and end my suffering.
I miss my Rose too much.
Please, do an old man a favor and deliver me to her.
Thank you for your time.