This is the story of how I died.
There I was, writing a story in my room alone. My back kind of aches from the long sitting but I was almost finished. The night was quiet and dark with only the light of the moon stood to make it dim. I was writing a story about a mother which is based on a true story. Tragic but heart warming in its peculiar way. Since, it's almost finished, I went to take a short break to the bathroom and get a drink afterwards.
The cats were out of the caged and I snorted. Sooner after that my nose begun to itch and eyes felt tearing. I sneezed. Again, and again, and again. I grabbed a tissue yet I sneezed one final time.
The night was quiet but to only acompanied by the sound of the fan my room. I cracked my fingers to finish up the story and head to bed. I typed so fast, and pressed Ctrl, Shift then T. Nothing were restored, life flashing back before my eyes, tearing, heart dropping, mind swirling, I remember the time I should have wrote it somewhere else before. 'Tis now, it is too little to late.