Shrouded.

Guest post by an Anonymous friend. Feedback is appreciated, minions.

Every muscle ached, each breath heaved. Tired, so very tired. Straining to take the next step, the next breath. Sand in her eyes, metal weights on her arms, tinier weights on her eyelids. Can’t lift your head, can’t life your eyelids, heavy, so heavy. It consumes you, the exhaustion. It gathers every iota of your energy and centers it; then little by little unravels it and sends it floating away from you. Slowly, slowly, so that at first it isn't noticeable, this change. But little by little, it chips away at you. Eating up parts of your mind, your soul, your body. Fatigue, weakness, weary, so tired. Threatens to overwhelm you, erase your existence. It shrouds your body like a fine gray mist. Always gray, the color of the hopeless, helpless. You can’t go on, you just don’t have the energy to fight anymore. Lie down, tumble in a heap on the hard frozen earth, cradle your cheek against the unyielding carpet of crystalline blindingly white ice. Your breath comes in short translucent puffs, your entire being aching with the weariness, near to collapse, begging to stop. Stop thinking, stop feeling, stop caring. This cold, cruel somnolent state, somewhere between life and death. You feel your essence leak out of you slowly, closing your eyes against this helpless despair. Maybe now, finally, you will escape this endless grating pressure, this stress on your brain, so strong you can feel it vibrate in your skull. Breathe a prayer with your last breath… Oh, so tired.