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He hung in the shadows, like he wasn’t really there, save for the presence that followed him. It was thick and heavy, silent but alive. And it seemed to be everywhere. All the time.
I wasn’t angry. I was aflame with fury. I was filled with something so dark it was poisoning me from the inside out.
“Because we were dying. Because it was the end. And at the end, life becomes precious.”
I wanted to forget him, but maybe I never would. I wanted to let him go, but I might never be able to.
Their lives would go on when I left. I would fade like a bruise or a memory.

