On a night like many other night's after it happened. You awake in a cold sweat, heart pounding in your chest, almost threatening to stop dead. But at this point, you'd almost welcome it...

This was written a long time ago, back in the summer. I was starting a new job the next day, but I woke with terrible anxiety the day before. This is the results of it. I do NOT condone suicide. It is never the answer. If you or anyone you know has these feelings, talk to someone.

This is largely un-edited, I wrote it in a hour or so and never touched it since. While not written originally as a sequel to A Butterflies Kiss, it could be considered as one. As this story was never meant to be seen by anyone, take it how you will.