Post Mortem

The room was perfectly white without even a microscopic stain of scarlet, despite the vulgar smell of death that encumbered the room. I tried to breath through my mouth, but I still felt repulsed. Although the feeling of disgust disintegrated when a chilling fear took over my body as I stared at what lay in front of me. On a table lay a dead body draped over with a wrinkly white cloth, but what scared me most was the knowledge that the man I once loved lay under that cloth. I couldn’t bring myself to accept Vincent’s death but maybe once I saw his mauled flesh I would be able to accept the gruesome truth. I took another deep breath, but my nerves couldn’t be calmed nor my wildly beating heart contained.
“Are you ready?” The doctor asked, about to draw the cloth off the body that lay in front of me.
“Yes.” I lied, I would never be ready.
The chills swept through my body like I was at the very end of the universe. He pulled off the cloth and my heart stopped beating. It wasn’t Vincent.

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