Chapter 07

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THERE WAS QUITE possibly nothing that she had experienced before that was as miserable as her current predicament. Any complaints that she might've made in her past could all be thrown out the window. They were too minuscule in comparison, problems the size of a mere thimble compared to now. After all, she was stuck in the middle of the forest with a bullet wedged in her leg. The only proper meal she had in the last twenty-four hours was a piece and a half of red bean paste bread and she had barely slept a wink.

What, in the life of an average high schooler, could possibly beat that?

"Rest while you can," Nathan had advised.

However, that was easier said than done. From where she laid down, Devora could see every last brilliant star that shimmered in the pitch-black night sky. While it was a pretty sight, it didn't give her the same sense of security it usually did back at home. After all, the stars were silent companions. They had long burned out, dead for more than a few million years before Devora was even conceived. Now, instead of assurance, Devora only felt dread at the sight of those glittering diamonds. She silently prayed that it wouldn't be the last time she could ever trace the constellations.

Ever since she was a child, Devora was a hopeless romantic. Fairytales had taught her that wishing upon evening stars could someday allow her to meet the man of her dreams. Maybe they could wed on a beach of an exotic island with the mesmerizing backdrop of the sunset when they said their vows. That image alone was enough to stir an obsessive fire within her.

Occasionally, in her more positive days, she viewed the end of each day as the start of a new one. Life and death came as a set. There was never one without the other. Hence, whenever the day ended, it meant that another would soon begin, a fresh new page for her to write her story on.

Nevertheless, sometimes, she would still find herself stuck in a dark ditch. Not every day could be filled with sunshine and rainbows. The deeper, darker parts of her mind would sometimes forget that dusk eventually brings the dawn. Perhaps the end really meant the end.

With that said, twilight became a period of waiting for Devora. It was the time to see whether things would truly start afresh, light spilling into the sky once more, or if the night would never cease to end, trapping the world in an eternity of darkness. Now, Devora could put a true idea to what 'the end' might actually be.

Death.

This might just be it. It might just actually be the final chapter of her story where her tale ends.

Much like most other people, Devora had hoped that she would be old, frail, and haggard before the time came for her to depart the world of the living. Preferably, she would be surrounded by her children as well as their grandchildren. Her once-young and devastatingly handsome husband would be by her bedside, cradling her hand close to his chest. In Devora's imagination, they would all whisper kisses of their love and press kisses on her forehead before the angels would finally bring her to a world where sleep was eternal.

Unfortunately, the last few hours proved this nonsensically positive dream to be nothing but such— dreams. If she died tonight, all her simple desires would be nothing but fruitless yearnings. She would die lonely, unwanted, perhaps even forgotten. She wouldn't expect herself to be missed and the realization of her current predicament sent a great sorrow straight into her heart.

Whimpering, Devora curled tightly into a ball, her tears dampening the earth beneath her body. Her fingers were clenched onto whatever remained of her dirty and bedraggled shirt, legs tucked close to her body even though pain surged through her with every movement. The physical wounds on her body didn't matter right now. In fact, they were doing too little to distract her from the mental onslaught her own emotions were throwing at her.

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