Something happens when you are balanced precariously on the precipice of death. As time slows and the body weakens and begins to fail, the mind continues in a dreamlike state, offering one last semblance of comfort before your vision slowly fades to blackness.
The darkness of death isn’t empty. Inside hide the demons you’d run from in your waking life, clawing their way into every fiber of your being, ripping and burning at your flesh until you succumb to the pain. But I was offered a reprieve, and I would not let my borrowed time go to waste.