Kay stared blankly into the distance.

Waiting.

Waiting.

He could not remember the last time he had gotten up or done anything.

No longer could he feel his hunger, thirst, anger, sadness, fear.

He was not sure if he could feel anything anymore.

He had cried so much for so long that his eyes seemed as though they couldn’t even render emotion.

His lips were so cracked and smudged he wasn’t sure he could even show any if he tried.

The only thing he could feel was tired.

Waiting.

Waiting.

He remembered the last time he looked at his reflection- however long ago that was- he could not recognize himself.  For a second he saw a shadow of a human, someone who looked undeniably dead- as if a ghost had inhabited the body of a corpse and was just moving it around like a puppet.

He certainly felt like a puppet.

It reminded him of his mother when she died of the illness.  He could see her ribs so clearly, her cheekbones so visible and elongated that he felt physically sick every time he saw her.  The feeling of her thin skin holding his hand, her jagged breathing, so loud and so soft at the same time, the way her lips were quivering so much despite her begging him not to cry- it was like his own personalized version of torture.  He could barely even look at her for more than a second because doing so felt like someone was stabbing him in the heart.

As she breathed her last, forcing herself to look into his eyes, she placed her hand softly on his cheek, whispering “I’ll see you again”.  

This was worse.

Waiting.

Waiting.

He could hear the loud echoing of his breathing and heartbeat surrounding him.

Engulfing him.

If he focused on the echo for too long, he could almost faintly hear the last cries of his loved ones as they breathed their last.

Every single breath of his, every single heartbeat, every blink, every fidget, was just the cruel reminder of fate that he still had the misery of being alive- that he was cursed with the misery of living, if one could even call it that.  He would try his hardest to remain as physically still as possible.  He did not need another reminder- maybe that way he would see his family again faster.

He hoped to god there was an afterlife so that he could see them again. 

Waiting.

Waiting.

As he sat quietly, he tried to ignore the sounds of groaning and screaming in the air.  He knew it was hunting him.

Well- something like that at least.

He had already tried chasing them- sacrificing himself, crying out to God, begging them to take him already- yet, somehow they refused.  They laughed in his face.

They wanted him to suffer more.

They wanted him to bring himself to the verge of death, to feel nothing anymore, to no longer even be human.  Then, only then, would they take him.

So, that’s what he did.

Waiting.

Waiting.