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As I hang from my shackles waiting to die I cant help but wonder what will become of my beloved. Will he be heart broken and be filled with sorrow, or will he be optimistic and try to see what little good came out of losing his love? I wish neither for both would unsettle him in ways I dont want to imagine; and if I shall perish I wonder what will happen to him after. Perhaps he'll fall in love again but this time with someone less accident prone. Or perhaps he'll stay a widowed man, alone in that big house of his with nothing but a few animals and a butler to keep him company. Again I wish him neither for again they would do more harm to him than good.What will become of him now?
I havent the slightest clue.
DING! The clock has struck noonand the exicutioner will be here in no time flat. My time has run out, and the sands of my hourglass has almost seced to fall. What will become of me once my time is gone? How will I perish in the walls Im inprisoned in? What will become of me?

This is part of a new book Im writing. Im stuck right now, if anybody thinks I should continue please tell me.