An extract from a book I’ll never write- 3

This rain was atrocious. It never stopped, and no matter what I had tried to do to dry myself, I felt as if the water had soon become a part of me. It has been raining for two weeks straight with no hint of stopping anytime soon, it was if the sky was weeping for all our past crimes and in all honesty, I could not blame it. We had done some really screwed up things and we were being punished for it. The world is a mess, seriously I am not lying. The electricity just turned off one day and hasn’t turned on since, and within the first day, the streets were already piled with bodies.

The thing that frightens me the most is that ever since that day, the moon has become a crimson red and the sun has not shone. It’s as if the sun just died. Maybe it killed itself and if so, I’m wishing I had done the same in the beginning and the cold, oh it’s so cold I can see my breath like a curling mist, evaporating in the freezing winds. I will die soon and I shall be alone. I can barely even see past my fire, with its crackling noises and its scorching touch. I have seen no one, but I know I am being watched. I can feel it. They’re coming. I do not wish to be saved.

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