It took its last breath.

He took his last breath…

He was okay just now. He was still running around; he was eating. He had to stop and rest for ten seconds after 3 seconds of walking…

We knew it.

The next time I looked he was lying on his right side. Dad said that he wouldn’t last long, and was muttering something about Mum wouldn’t make it back in time.

I watched. He has stopped normal breathing. He was spasming.

His eyes looked as though they were to pop out any second.


I never realised that death takes so long. He was like that, on his side…

He let out one faint shriek during the whole process. Only one.

Mum came back. She made it.

After what seemed like forever, he died. In a small pool of urine.

10 p.m. September 29, 2003.






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