The wind ripped through what little clothes he wore. He shivered but stumbled forward another step. He tried to open his eyes once more. They were like lead doors. Heavy and resistant to movement. Another blast of wind brought him to a standstill. Then he just fell. Finally, he managed to slide open his eyes. He saw the snow beneath him turn pink and then red. What little he could see beyond that was blurry and white. So much white.
He inhaled deeply and coughed it back out. A stabbing pain filled his mind. Then without any warning, he swayed and fell over. He felt his face impact the snow and for a moment actually realized, that he was not as cold as he could be. The snow showed him this much. Again, he tried to open his eyes and saw only blur and darkness creeping in. He welcomed it. He welcomed nearly anything other than this.
Death heard his welcome and offered him platitudes. Come, I will end your pain. I will end your sorrow. I will end your misery. I will give you peace. He thought to himself that death must not be too bright. Did death not know, that it offered more than Tommy would have asked for?
He said yes to death. His vision faded from little to none as he sunk down into the darkness.
To be continued…maybe.
Now is the time to show me just how much you really want me to write. The ball is in your court.
Note: This is obviously a rough draft.