Copper

I wake to a scream of a shattering glass, thinking of the mess a small glass would make. The raging smells of death surround me as I walk out of my room to a slotted family, that isn’t dead yet. Terrified, I run screaming back to the small concrete cell and force my eyes to take me away.. My mouth fills with warmth and the bitter sweet taste of blood fills my mouth. I look down to see that I have been shot. The black pink Floyd shirt now a beautiful auburn red. It’s a familiar sent….copper, wine, and tears. I look up to find the eyes of my killer, I look to see myself smiling at the scene.  After an hour of life reflection, the realization came to me I am not dead. As I lay on the cold concrete floor I come to accept the fact that I will never escape the hell that has come to consumed me.