Maybe tomorrow will be better. A part of my mind whispers, but that's not the case. Oh how I pray to the force that it was. I only have a few seconds of life left. A few seconds of breath to think my last, feel my last, cry my last. I never expected this is how it would end, I expected to die a hero, a hero is someone they would remember, someone they would look up to, someone they would love.

But here I am dying in the arms of a man I thought I could love.

Dying in the arms of a monster, a traitor, a lost boy.

Dying in the arms of a man who made me kill, made me hurt my friends, made me turn away from the only thing I believed in, the only thing that kept me sane. He made me do all these horrible things.

But he didn't make me love him, that was my own curse, I couldn't see what everyone else saw I wanted to hope.

That very hope is getting me killed, got my parents killed, got the my brother killed.

I loved and I lost.

Lost everything.

I am now losing the only thing I have left; my life.

It's near the end now I feel my body growing cold.

He's crying, but I don't hear it. He holds me to his chest, thinking maybe something will change, but it doesn't. His hand graces my cheek, but I don't feel it.

I don't feel anymore.

I can't feel my legs.

I can't move my limbs.

My breath has stopped.

My heart now refuses to beat.

All I can think of now is how wrong I was, and how much-

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I was inspired?