Sammy hunched over his desk, the soft blue-gray glow of his MacBook casting a gentle glow on his pale, tired face.
His dark roughened hair fell across his forehead, and his deep blue eyes, though dull from exhaustion, shone with a determined spark through his vintage glasses as his fingers automatically clicked away at the keys of his laptop with a sly satisfying smirk creeping onto his lips with each paragraph he completed as he reveled in the sheer act of his creation.
The room around him was dark, and silent with just only the sound of the clicking keys and the occasional creak of the old wooden desk interrupting the silence.
The air was thick with the scent of stale coffee and worn pages: a testament to his long hours of plotting and writing with unwavering focus solely on the words flowing onto the screen.
After about five hours of straight writing without interruption, Sammy's head fell back, as he let out a long, languid yawn.
"Finally…. Almost done".
He reached for the coffee mug by the laptop its contents a murky, lukewarm brew. He took a swig, feeling the bitter taste revive him.
"Agh"
Letting out a languid yawn, he placed the mug back on its coaster.
Nothing less than 20 hours of straight writing the whole day, and Sammy felt it was worth it. He was just about to complete the 20th chapter of his new book in less than a day.
It made him feel satisfied as a weak and tired smile stretched his lips. But just as he was swimming in his satisfaction, a voice brought him back to reality.
"May I know what you are doing up by this time"? A soft female voice broke the silence as his door slowly creaked open.
"Mum!!" Sammy shrieked turning his chair the opposite direction towards his mother : her hand locating the switch on the wall as she flipped it, the lights filled the room immediately making Sammy squint his eyes.
Taking a few steps towards her son, Mary bent to have a closer look at what her son was doing.
"Honey don't you think you're over doing this?"
"Mom it's just a few more words and I'm done—"
"But this is—"
"Mum if I'm able to win the contest this time il be able to help with other things and reduce your stress besides I love it. its what I love doing or do you want to take that away from me too?"
"You know that's not what I meant—"
"Then let me write mum".
"Im not stopping you it's just your health I'm worried about. You can't be stressing yourself like this you haven't even showered the whole day : you stink".
Sammy's mother said placing some pills in his palms and handing a glass of water to him.
"Here. take it".
Suffering from a terrible case of asthma since the age of seven, Sammy had to adapt to a calm lifestyle in order not to provoke his long sustained health and for him, there was no better way to do it than write. He loved it so much it was becoming an addiction.
It was so much more than putting ink on a paper or typing them on a device, for him, it was like bringing the worlds in his imagination to reality and having others appreciate it and it only boosted his urge and love for it.
His mother's care and concern was very understandable being Sammy was the only one she had left after loosing her husband in a terrible factory accident.
Sammy threw all the pills in his mouth, with a gulp as he took his meds, and handed his mother the glass back.
"I'm fine mother there's nothing to worry about…really". Sammy assured his mother getting a smile and another kiss on the head in response.
"It's past eleven, sweetie. Please get some rest soon." Mary said, giving her son another gentle kiss on the forehead and ruffling his hair before quietly exiting his room.
Sigh..
Letting out a deep breath, Sammy faced his system back. "I better complete this chapter and get some rest".
He said placing his finger on his keyboard and adjusted his glasses, about to continue when he began feeling dizzy.
"Woah… i think il stop here for today".
Bastard, breaths were becoming a luxury. As Sammy shut down his laptop without hesitation to call it a night.
The air around him seemed to thicken, making every inhale a struggle. He tried to catch his breath, but it was like grasping at smoke – elusive and frustrating. His chest heaved, his lungs burning, as he fought to draw in oxygen.
This wasn't something new and Sammy understood well.
He needed his inhaler.
His eyes scanned the room, his gaze frantic as he searched for his inhaler, but it was nowhere to be found on his desk.
His breathing grew shallower, and he was beginning to feel blurry.
The last time this happened he almost lost his life. That feeling where you can't breath like you're underwater or like the world was running out of air. He couldn't stand it for long.
Things became tensed in minutes.
Panic set in as he tried to call out for his mom, but his voice was barely a whisper. The house seemed to grow quieter, the silence suffocating him.
Desperation fueled his search, his hands shaking as he got up from his desk and yanked open the small cupboard under it.
Still, the inhaler wasn't there.
"What the…"
(Whenever it happens, just calm down and don't panic think, and reach for the nearest person around for help.)
These were his doctors words, and they came through his mind at the right moment but still they weren't helpful as panic had already set in at the moment.
He was slowly passing out: his hands resting on his desk for support.
And Just as he was about to give up, the inhaler fell from the rack on his wall, landing with a soft thud on the rug in the middle of his room few feet away from him.
Sammy's vision began to blur, his body weakening in the joints. It had really gotten this bad for him, this was an illness he had been bearing for more than eleven years and it had eaten deep in him.
He fell to the ground, his eyes fixed on the inhaler mere meters from his grasp as he gritted his teeth his left arm gripping his neck for air as his right, stretched towards it.
With his eyes already dull and blacking out Sammy couldn't help but wonder if this was his time. He knew that his illness had a higher chance to claim his life but he didn't expect it to happen so soon.
But even as his life faded before his eyes, Sammy's thoughts grew cloudy, but only two concerns refused to fade in his mind.
His mother's worried face and the unfinished chapter just there in his laptop screen. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he thought of his mother but strangely the unsatisfactorily weight of his unfinished chapter was heavier in his heart.
He spent months just plotting this particular book and on the day he was about to begin publishing it, death came knocking in the door before he could even complete it.
"Why today?".Sammy muttered.
With a final, desperate effort, Sammy's hand reached out, his fingers brushing against the inhaler.
If only he could get a few more minutes he would complete the chapter and publish it. At least the world would see what he had to offer just as he dreamed for it to be….but it was too late.
He passed out his hands mere inches from the object that could have saved his life.
*
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( utmost silence)
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*
(Thud!)
(Gasp !!)
Null and void, was the only things Sammy could feel and experience at the moment. All black—blank, and an empty feeling … nothing, not even like he had a body: just like a floating nothingness.
'What the hell' He thought.
"Im supposed to be dead right?".
But as much as he wanted those words to leave his lips they could only be heard in his consciousness.
(Switssshhhhh)
'Ahh'
A powerful beam of light so bright it could shine through anything, out of nowhere descended upon Sammy from above. He could feel it passing through him and after what seemed like seconds, he felt the beam of light pulling him closer and closer till he helplessly was draw into the light.
"Ahhh!!"
And with a sudden whoosh he found himself resting on the weight of his two feet as a wave of very cold air hit him.
Finally opening his eyes he didn't know were closed, he observed he was standing alone in what seemed like a desolate wasteland.
A barren expanse of dust and ash stretching out before him like a graveyard, surrounded by crumbling skyscrapers with shattered window bars: steel beams twisted and tangled like skeletal carnage reaching towards the grey sky.
Rubble-filled streets, lined with the rusting husks of cars and the shattered remnants of what could be imagined as a place once beaming with life; now faded into the distance, enveloped in an eerie intimidating silence and stillness even in such an open vast.