The candle flickers and I clasp my hands over my mouth as not to blow out the flame by mistake. Slowly but surely, the light dies. "It'll be over soon," my mind tells me, knowing it only holds on for the pure sake of survival instincts. Yet the hope that lays in the small, ridiculous, fragile flame is there.
...No, that's not true. It's fake. Tears sting in my eyes, and run over my face. All I do is watch the tiny speck of light grow smaller and smaller, holding back the desperate wail that threatens to escape my lips. Instead, I sob loudly. It's fake.
The light goes out and I'm left alone with my agonizing cries. Nothing can be fake now. I feel it with my whole entity.