I always entertained the idea that I would die alone in a gutter, one day and it’s because I love to overdose.
It feels so good. It’s sickeningly so much better than just a normal high.
Now, I feel…alright. I feel sleepy. I feel like I’m slipping. It’s like falling asleep whilst riding and you feel yourself slipping off your saddle and then you either wake up in a sudden jolt or you systematically straighten yourself up again.
There’s no adrenaline, this time, Lorcain. Nor is there any naxalone. You tried, dear friend.
You tried. That’s more than I got from most.
My limbs are leaden and my thoughts are just as stiff and still. My eyes are shutting all on their own. I can feel flames kissing my face as waves of warmth spill over me.
Death will come with the undertow.
Warm, quiet, comfortable.
They’ll be too ashamed to admit that I died from an overdose, no doubt. They’ll say I went down fighting. Some bloody battle out on Domination Point, something worthy of a veteran.
The whisper of a promise comes from this needle. Gone amongst the warmth and the well-being and the chaos and the motion and the-
Maybe I’ll even get a song.
I have been an assassin and a liar and a cheat and an oath-breaker and an addict and so many other things, every one worse than the last. I have killed men, women and even children. Horde, Alliance, Argent. Most of which likely didn't deserve it. The colors are so blurred.
The colors never mattered. They all bled the same.
A year ago, I was a smiling, cheerful blonde, newly enlisted, in love, so full of hope. War does things to you; things it will no longer do to me. This is warm, this is cozy, it's a death this war criminal doesn't deserve, but it's still the one I'm going to have.
"Spitfire. Sometimes, Kia, love comes and is burnt out just as quickly and all that you're left with is the acrid, burning stench that gets caught in your throat."
So, too, with people. A beautiful, blinding light and then nothing but an eerie silence that will never be filled.
I didn't tell my husband I loved him, this morning, did I?
And like I've told too many good men and women before;
"The war is over, soldier."
"The war is finally over. You can rest."