The darkness, disguised as red cotton, wraps around me like a cold sheet. I feel its weight on my shoulders, its pressure on my chest. I'm tired, so tired. I've been fighting against it for a long time, but now it seems like it's winning.

I look down at my hands. They're covered in white smoke, a faint light trying to break through the darkness. It's the last bit of hope I have.

I know I can beat the darkness. I know I can find the light. But I don't know how.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I feel the white smoke in my lungs, like a warm touch. It's the strength that gives me hope.

I raise my hand to my chest, protecting my soul. It's my source of light, the last thing I have.

But the darkness doesn't give up. The clouds of red cotton come closer, getting hotter, angrier, wanting to consume me.

I'm not going to give up. I'll keep fighting against the darkness until the end.