It Stopped

My white fingers gripped the side of the bed. Thin and shaking. Frail and fragile. Each aching, raspy breath was slow and uneasy, coming in short gasps. My brain throbbed as I recounted the harsh and careless words burned in. I wanted to scream in pain, but my extreme lack of normal amounts of energy, and dry, itchy throat wouldn’t allow it. Every inch of me was drained of energy and ached. I could only barely feel my heart dully thump inside of me. It did so slowly, barely enough to get blood to all ends of me. But it was slowing. I could feel it. Its reach growing less, and less.
Until finally,
It stopped.