The Worst Way to Die
Image by Victor Grabarczyk Image by Victor Grabarczyk
By: Kiera Andusko/ Sophomore writer
I woke up naked, covered in slugs, and choking on something slimy. I considered letting whatever it was continue to choke me because it was most likely another slug, but then I thought about how terrible of a way to die that would be. I pictured, “Man found naked, covered in slugs, pronounced dead after choking on a slug,” covering the news and knew I couldn’t go out like that. I fought the slimy, not-so-little slug as I tried to cough it back up, but it was putting up quite a solid effort to stay wedged in my throat. My mind wondered as I sat there, hacking up a slug, thinking of how I could have possibly ended up in this situation. I couldn’t tell where I was, where my clothes were, or how the pesky slugs managed to find me. My thoughts became stranger the longer I sat there. The slug was still sliming the inside of my throat, blocking my breathing, yet letting just enough oxygen in. I didn’t want to die, but I was beginning to accept my fate as one of the worst ways to die in history. My surroundings began to blur and I could feel the slug squirming inside me before it all went black and my head hit a soft pile of slugs.
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