I slipped out of the house and into the night, padding silently into a driveway with my lighter and cigarette clutched between two fingers. The glowing orb at the end was my light at the end of this tunnel, though I looked away in a hasty attempt to hide my escape once more. I found no solace in the smoke tumbling like satin curtains down to my lungs. Instead, my mind filled with a strangled fear that perhaps all I was in the current moment was nothing like who I was meant to be.
Disregarding my tight black dress, I sat down on the grungy cement and pulled my knees to my chest, staring at that blank spot in front of me. With the world spinning away at an alarming rate, I whispered, Who am I? Who am I? Then to the cigarette staining my fingers, Why haven't you killed me yet?
You were right. All I've ever wanted was a quick escape, but into a world darker than the one in which I currently reside. The light won't have me.