She Got Up

She got up for the hundredth time, attempting to shake the tendrils of exhaustion from her head. Instead, in her weakness, she was overcome with dizziness and was forced to resort to holding the bedpost to remain upright. She walked the house at zombie speed, just to prove she still could and returned to her bed, aching madly. The days passed in kind, a relentless parade of pain and regret.

She got up for the last time, shuffling one tentative foot in front of the other. The ennui welled inside her like a tsunami about to break, but she bit it back, only just in time. The effort, however, tangled her feet beneath her, and the last thing she saw was the floor speeding toward her face. With a sickening crunch, she was released from her prison forevermore, her last breath a sign of relief.

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