A thought

There's a thought that circles her where she sits with her legs under her and hair messily around her face.

It is a frightening thought. Which circles up and down around her. She doesn't see it. But the closer it gets the less she breathes.

It's whizzing by close, so close it raises up a slight rush of air on her skin from where it races by.

And she breathes more erratically. Words don't form. Coherence is crushed.

Her ribs feel a pounding within. Massive rushes of painful blows within.

She can hear her organs struggle to keep her alive but it isn't that which is frightening.

It is this thought, this shameless vicious thought. This thought that sucks out all the air from where it dwells.

This thought.
This morbid thought.