This was it. This was my end. I was standing on the roof of the building where everything started. A few metres in front of me where the man was standing that had followed me for years now. I knew that I was going to die, but I kept fighting. Even though I hadn’t had any energy. I wouldn’t just give up. Slowly he came nearer and nearer, angrily I ran to him and wanted to punch him. As hard as I could, for everything he made me go through. But when I tried, he made me trip. I stood up again, ready (or not really ready) for a fight. But he was incredibly strong. Then suddenly I tripped again, but backwards. And because he made me fall a lot of times, I fell from the roof. I think he wanted to catch me but he didn’t make it. Then everything around me went silent. I started thinking about the good in my life. It wasn’t much but it made me happier. The only thing left now was me falling down. I wasn’t even scared. It was the end, and I accepted it.
