Selfish DeathBreathing has become harder.Ever since he put that knife in my back breathing has become hard.With every breathe I take I feel my life drifting upward away from my body.The question that remains, is shall I take it out and repay him the favor?Or do I leave it in and thank him for the favor?I have to end it.Whether it be by the slow painful hand of his.Or by the quick but selfish hand of mine.I have to end it.I fell I am in actuality, dangerously alive.
JulietWhen Juliet fell, no one looked. When she didn't get up, no one stopped to help her. She lay there, a cold body taking up space on the ground.Juliet was very quiet and kept to herself a lot. No one knew much about her, or for that matter even that she existed. She was a very skilled poet and an avid reader. She had tackled the likes of Shakespeare and Hemingway, and whenever she could, pulled out the dictionary to add to her already extensive vocabulary. Books were Juliet's only friend, and as such she spent a lot of time with them. Sometimes she would sit for hours in the library. It was her favorite thing to do on a cold day. Many of Juliet's peers had little regard for her passion for books. And none of them found this an appealing life to live. Surprisingly nor did Juliet. She would never admit this to anyone, but she was never content with her life. She would trade intellect for friends any day. What good was being able to understand the literary genius of Shake