Clear skies, 58° F, 12:34 PM
RE: There is a shooting star tonight.
A river rushed past him, but he dared not to look upon its current, even as his throat burned and begged him for water. He could not bear to see his reflection, for he knew what he would see. Looking into his own eyes, he would relive the horrors he had just barely escaped from with his life. And what a pitiful life it was turning out to be. Torn between giving up and fighting to survive, the youth was slowly, unwittingly starving himself. The depression that had dug its talons so deeply into him urged on this self destruction, whispering sweet nothings to his soul in order to conjure kind thoughts of death within him.
His fight thus far had been the best he could muster, but as his body weakened he found that no amount of resolve could make the difference when faced against the basic, cruel mechanics of life on this earth. Each stride became harder to manage, his energy leaving him in rapid bouts, until with a final spasm of his muscles the monstrous boy collapsed to the littered forest floor.
His breathing came heavy, deep drafts of rotting foliage and other things filling his lungs, and he did not feel as though he was suffocating. Instead, he felt as though he were disappearing into his grave, and he felt very welcomed. His pale eyes looked upward, through the sparse canopy and into the night sky, as black as the end would be. As they watched, a singly star fell from the sky, and then another, and finally a third.
"Mother," he croaked, his darkening mind clinging to the faces of the loved ones who had so recently and horrifically passed. "I'm sorry..."