In the Labryinth

Earlier that morning I thought about what I was going to do today. For some reason I knew it wasn't going to be a good day and here I am in the alleys of London inside the cover of  the darkest hour. Why did I put myself in this situation? I quiclkly dash down the dark labryinth. Just when I turn the corner I see a glimpse of the disgusting physcopathic serialkiler and I know it is the end of my life so I turn to face the enemy. There he is with a knife in my chest.

Then there was nothing -- only a silence that filled my ears like honey. It dripped down, insulating me from the world outside my closed eyes. For several moments, I succumbed to this silence, welcomed it, and hoped that perhaps it would last an eternity.

It didn't. From a distance, I could hear voices calling. My name floated on the wave of voices as they crested and grew louder, disturbing my silence like the squeezing of a balloon.

When it popped, I finally opened my eyes and faced the world again