Her Final Breath

Her Final Breath

By, K.N. Lee

They've forgotten about me.

As I waste away in the dank basement of the home my husband built in the 40's, my grandchildren go about their lives as if I don't exist. 

I remember setting up trust funds for my children, and then for their children. Once upon a time I was a pillar of the community, a wealthy heiress from Russia. There were countless parties in this house. Parties where the mayor would attend and celebrities would arrive in style. I'd have Eve curl my dark hair and wear my brightest red lipstick.

Those were the days, when the young men would lust after me. 

Their lust was always in silence, of course. My husband was a big man, a general in the army, and struck terror in the hearts of any many that even opened his mouth to say, "Good evening, Mila."

I can longer feel anything, but a ghost of a smile wrinkles my face as I close my eyes against the memories. 

Numb. 

I am numb.

I never imagined I'd be trapped in a bed covered in my own blood without food or water. They await my death. I know it. 

Somehow I will show them. 

Even as I draw my final breath, I make this promise. This is not the last they will hear from me...

I suppose I forgot to tell them that Grandma Mila has a few secrets up her sleeve.