The fire consumes us. In eachother's arms we drink down the flames and feel our living insides blackening, coughing up soot to accompany the taste of burning flesh in our mouths.

Our nostrils smell hair as it catches on fire and before burning our skin black, the scent of meat cooking reminds us of our last meal together. I want to laugh, but it is impossible. If your convulsions are the result of laughter or not, I have no way to find out.

The sensitive fingertips feel more pain than the rest of the body and as our fists clench, we feel the skin of fingers melting and sticking to the skin in our palms. Pulling them apart, skin from the palm of our hands come loose and stick to the tips of our fingers.

It is completely dark, even though it should be bright as the brightest day. Just a couple of seconds ago it was that bright and before that I could see your eyes, the fear, but also the calmness in them and the satisfaction from being together. But now, inside what used to be the windows to our souls, we hear only boiling fluids.

If someone had told me that our hearing would be the sense that would be with us until the end, I would not have believed them. Now as I my mouth no longer tastes the ashes, my nostrils no longer smell hair or cooking meat, my fingertips have probably dug through the palms of my hands but I feel nothing and my eyes are bursting and I hear the sizzling sound as the fluid is boiled running down my cheeks.

I also hear wood cracking in the fire, people shouting, and the heavy breathing of the one I love so close to me. Her breathing becomes heavier, but slower, as each breath, once only giving life, now also takes it. A competition between two of the strongest forces in nature; life and death.

The last thing I hear are her final breaths and with the reassurance that she is at peace, I see no reason to fight it any longer. It is a losing battle either way. I let myself go.

Holding eachother's hands, we walk towards the unknown, to that which is new, to that which might not even exist. Maybe it is only one last dream. But I am still grateful for it nonetheless.