Untitled I always hated standing beside the bed. It was a spot where every memory would flash back at me. Every smile, every laugh just throwing itself at me like a rockslide and I didn’t run away. Staring at the empty face, my brown eyes stung with rays of pain and sadness, as she lied down lifeless right in front of me. Those violent violet eyes looking up at us as she was there again, giving us the usual morning stare but there wasn’t a smile this time. Her almost white golden locks and strands of hair spread on the pillow, it was messy but still looked beautiful. Her face was unusually pale, white as the snow that fell in the cold harsh winter. Her hands were curled up into fists to beat Death until it was numb in a boxing match, but unfortunately, she lost. She won second place, however. Her prize was to lie down breathless, and let Death take his prize. I stood there, my hair pulled back into a messy tail, glasses off and wearing black.