The fog was suffocating.

Closing in on me from all sides, it slowly crept forward, its ghastly fingers reaching along, ever further towards their target.

I was living on borrowed time and this was only the end I was doomed to have. My friends, my goals, my quest, nothing really mattered anymore. The whispers, unintelligible, were growing closer, louder, more insistent by the minute.

Could this have been avoided? Could I have done something, anything to save myself? It might have been the case, but it didn’t matter anymore. The ground, the only thing I could see clearly up to this point, was starting to disappear as well. I sat down, so as to not lose myself.

It’s ironic. I always tried so hard to be better, to do better, to make the world better. But in doing so, I ended up losing myself, along with everything I sacrificed to get here. And here… here I am. In this somewhere slowly becoming nowhere, losing sight of the world, losing sight of my own body.

In the end, nothing really mattered. I tried, oh I tried, but life is a cruel thing that is equally unfair to everyone, indiscriminately breaking down anything it wants. I only wished I could… no, I wouldn’t want to have another chance. I don’t deserve one and I don’t believe I’d do anything much differently. I only wished I could… get one last glance at everything I worked towards achieving. I wish I could say thank you, and sorry. I was so focused on what I wanted, I did not realise in time that I could have cherished you as well.

The whispers grew quieter, merely a fantomatic hush in the distance, a lullaby of compassion, of understanding. The fog softly encircled me, yet it was not as oppressing as before, which comforted me. I felt alone, more alone than I’ve ever been before, and probably that I ever will be. Even with the whispers, I was left only with my thoughts and emotions. I wasn’t lonely, I was at peace apart from some elements.

It is a bittersweet feeling to realise how loved you were once it is too late. You want to tell them so many things, promise them that you’ll be better, as you know now how much it actually meant for you. You want to sacrifice everything if only it means that you’ll be able to see them one last time. Yet you have nothing to sacrifice anymore, and you can only hope they know how you feel without you telling them.

I laid on my back, staring up. Although my surroundings consisted only of a thick, ethereal grey mist, I could still see bits of the sky. It was night, there was no wind, no clouds, no sounds but the soft whispers. The half-moon and faraway stars gave it all a mysterious, cold shine, but I wasn’t uncomfortable. It was a strange mist: it wasn’t humid, it wasn’t dry. It almost felt like it was only an illusion, which it might as well be. I don’t know how long I laid there. It was for a second, it was forever.

“Are they worried for me? Are they looking for me?” 

“They’ll never find me here. Nobody escapes the Neverwhere.”

I hoped that everyone could go on without me.

I wished that they wouldn’t miss me too much, and live life as they want.

I might be gone, but keep living. I can’t be saved now, but you can still fight. Don’t do something only because you think that’s what I would’ve wanted, fight for your own goals. As I lay here in this fracture between worlds, the whispers fading away, know that I wish you the best.

Know that I love you.