The last one.

The last one.
By Carla Sierra.

The night was warm.
The cigarrette tasted good.
The stars were bright, yet
I felt like something was not okay.
That Light, it kept on distrubing me.
It reminded me of him, my doom.
Still, I was not scared. If he was coming back for me I could
take it, I was prepared, I´ve waited for this for so long.

The trees moved with an impatience that I recognized, maybe
he was here.
This would be my last cigarette, my last warm night, my last look at the beautiful stars.
So, I took a big breathe of air, before I could let it out I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned quickly.

There he was, he had not changed, his eyes were the same, deep and scary.
So, after all he was here, to challenge me, to make me feel despair.

But I could not give him that, so I felt a strange kind of peace.
I smiled. To my surprise he smiled too.

-So- he said with a whisper. – This is how things are going to end.
-Yes- I answered, again surprised of the security that I was feeling.
- Are you afraid?- He asked me , looking straight into my eyes.
- No- I managed to say.
And with that answer he pulled the trigger, I was impressed of how quickly it all came down.
I appreciated that, I savored my last words, the beauty of NO.
I fell into the ground, and within seconds I was gone, and with that I left behind my guilt and sins.
I deserved to die.
I felt happy to die.
I was finally dead.



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