What is death really?

The lights in the hallway flicker violently. The scuttle of slippered feet echo in my ears. The screeching is unbearable. Loud even through the cement walls.

Liar. Liar. Snitch, Snitch. Their crackly voices taunt me. Bony fingers trail over my neck causing me to cringe.

I need to get through tonight. I need the pills. The little orange ones that cause me the relief I need.

They calm so well. I hear the maniacal laugh as she slams her head against the wall. Harder then the last time.

Shea.
  Her name from my lips sounds foreign. I sob as I look down at her pretty face. Black hair splayed across her bloody face. Flesh unwinding from bone. The memory still so fresh in my mind.

I run my fingers through her hair. Once so silky, but now coarse and brittle. A smile fixed on her coral lips.

The mice gnawing on her pale toes and maggots spilling from her eye sockets.
Why poor darling you are looking rather pale, maybe I should call the doctor now.

I screech as the voices in my head control me.

Dead as a door-nail

I whimper helplessly. I scramble to the corner of my cell and rock back and forth clawing at my arms drawing blood. I claw at my throat and feel the sticky flow of blood.

Firm hands grip my body. Death is finally here I murmur.

Take me away I whimper helplessly as warm, black velvet envelopes me.