My muse is dead. Tell me how yours is dealing with it.
(From Brooklynxfury)
This got too long for an ask. So here have some angst.
She had to do it. He stopped breathing. It was only a matter of time. Se knew the change was coming. With her knife, she made sure the change would never take Jake. Tears streaked down her face as she cradled his still warm body against her chest. He deserved so much more than dying slowly, scared and hurting. If things weren’t gone to shit, she’d give him a massive funeral with the whole kit and caboodle. But now she had to try and move his massive body without any help. It took her nearly a day to dig the grave, and another one to find some sort of marker to make so he’d have a proper burial. Her whole body ached as she sat next to his final resting place. The tears never stopped. It hurt too bad. One moment caused this. A single slip up. She’d never forgive herself for ever looking away. She moved on in a fog for weeks before she encountered anyone living. They asked her if she was ok and she only cried. Words escaped her as she tried to compose herself. Jake was gone, and she was sure it was somehow her fault.
MY MUSE IS DEAD. HOW IS YOURS DEALING











