Descriptive Essay On Beautiful Death

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Beautiful Death
Amongst many others, I was never beautiful. I never compared to the ones who were pretty-I longed to be like them. But no more do I sit and ponder if I was meant to be ugly, meant to end up like this; because now I surely know it is true. I know my true meaning. Now I sit here and await, await 10 O'clock with more sorrow and fright than ever, with my head held low and my self-esteem dwindling. Sitting here-at my deathbed-telling you my wrongs. I sit with a past that none should have. But I also sit here, waiting for time to pass because I knew something that others didn't. I stay in this dimly-light room, only by candlelight do I see. With a stabbing ache in my gut-almost as if a dagger is stuck in between my ribs I talk on, …show more content…

Only the hinges creaked and the wind blew. A gate to a fence swung open. Than slammed shut. Open. Shut. Open. Shut. I quickly ran down the street, on my two gaunt legs which lead me to the ally. Her ally. And I saw it. Her exhausted presence, which just made her look more exquisite. The urge, the urge to kill her-the urge to puncture her skin. The urge to twist and scrape and gore her. To impale her stomach, cut her open. The urge overwhelmed me. I slunk next to the wall, over to the mass of her sleeping body. The beautiful body that would soon be mine. I turned her onto her back, her olive skin tone stunning me. Her skin shone as it reflected the moon. And as I stared at her longer, longer, longer, I realized that the urge, the urge to kill her had taken over. I wasn’t human anymore. It was almost as if I was hypnotized. I was only a thing with evil thoughts. A thing that thirsted for blood-for the satisfaction of a still …show more content…

Maybe even the first-but I still wasn’t remorseful. I craved her elegant existence since the first day I saw her. I was now satisfied-the craving, the hunger-it was gone. It left me with nothingness, an empty pit in where my sorrow and guilt should have been.
Now as I turned back into a human, slowly, slowly, slowly. With my dry and cracked fingers, I pulled apart the skin of her chest and searched-not looking but by feel-I searched for her heart. Because two hearts are better than one. And I needed two. With that I went off-back to my apartment-not caring if anyone found her-I had other thoughts on my mind.
I have the thought to kill another lady, this time someone I know very well. I don't want to do it. But she tells me to. She tells me that I will be better off with her, up there. I have no choice she tells me. She tells me to do the same to myself as I did to her. As I wait I realize-It won't be bad. I will be better off not in this world. Right?-And I imagine it. Over and over and over again-killing myself. The many ways I could do

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