This is it.

As the thought of eternal silence and darkness clouds my mind, my nails dig into my palms and I tightly close my eyes. The pain and sorrow spreads through my body, as though being carried by my veins. I don't want to know what will happen next. Will I survive? Will I wake up again to see the light of day?

I slowly open my eyes once more, taking in the old wooden ceiling covered in dust and cobwebs. The morning light escaping through tiny holes in the roughly covered window, only to cast shadows of the shed's items on the wall infront of me. The rope that has me tied to the garden chair, leaves marks on my bare arms.

The door to the shed suddenly opens and slams shut. I give a frightened jerk of my head, but close my eyes as the edge of the chair cuts through my skin. The dragging footsteps get closer and I feel my body sweating. With the air heavy with silence, I let out a panicked squeak.

This is it.