Hollows

A Story by Manal

A vivid description of a dying man's last thoughts

"For someone who was never meant to for this world. I must confess I'm suddenly having a hard time leaving it. Of course, they say every atom in our bodies was once a part of a star. Maybe I'm not leaving, maybe I'm going home..."
The man thought to himself, and gently smiled at the idea of leaving a corrupt world. No one knows for sure if there is even a thing called the human spirit. Many have pondered on the idea of an entity of pure energy festering inside of them, making them who they are. The dying man never believed in such a thing, often calling it a myth, but as he was preparing for his demise, he had an indescribable feeling, somewhere between anguish and serenity. His spine shivered as he heard an inhuman voice in his head, telling him of what he could've accomplished in his lifetime. In his head, he saw a completely different life, a life of sheer joy, something he had never experienced. Orphaned by a very young age, he never knew what having a family feels like. His rather extreme fear of strangers left him socially crippled, and eventually lonely. No family would want to adopt a child with a five page long psychiatric profile. The man recalled the hardships he had to go through to make it this far in life, and wondered if it was all worth it. A life of utter loneliness is something he had grown to accept and embrace. As the heat slowly escaped the organic vessel we've all come to call a body, he recalled a certain insignificant memory of his relatively short existence, the smell of his apartment in the morning. Something as trivial as the aroma of a room shouldn't be a dying person's last thought, but it did. His home was his sanctuary, his escape from reality. The only thing he cherishes more than his studio apartment was a broken wrist watch that belonged to his deceased father. It was a vintage gold-plated Swiss watch with copper-colored roman numerals. The man never takes it off, which resulted in his wrist being of much lighter skin tone than the rest of his body. He always thought that the old man who gave it to him was lying about who the watch belonged to, but he didn't want to lose anything that his late parents used, even if it wasn't real. A tear fell from his grey eyes onto his pale cheek as he realized that he has long forgotten his mother's hair color or the stern tone of his father's voice. Calmness started to show on his face as he remembered who his parents were and what legacy they left behind. Viktor Kolkova, a very rich Russian business man, and Amelia Edwards, a British socialite from Essex who was also half Spanish. "They sure were great..." The man thought to himself as he looked down on the old wrist watch.
They say that time flows differently as you near the end, and that's exactly what happened to him. Seconds felt like minutes, and minutes like hours, as though the universe is expanding and he's standing still in the middle of it. Fear started to fade as he heard the haunting yet tranquil sound of tree leaves, gently moved by subtle wind. Serenity finally took over him as he smiled for the last time.