I'm expendable. I came to learn that recently. What is my life worth, anyways? What is yours worth? I guarantee you that more than 99% of the world's population lives aren't that crucial to existence. It's not some verified statistics or something, but let's say it's intuition. Important people are a minority. And I don't count.
Yet I struggle to live. To hope. To accomplish. Like it matters. I tell myself I have to live. To follow that selfish instinct within and flourish. I convince myself that I want to. Don't I? Death is humanity's number one antagonist. Or is it?
I fought tenaciously to reach this state. I battled. But now what? I am clueless. I have everything I want. The money. The house. The cars. The time. The luxury. But now what? I am empty. Detached. I never thought I would finally be done with climbing, so I never planned what to do next when I summit. So I wander. Sometimes in deserted places; I tell myself I am pioneering them. Frequently, I get the aura of danger, but that only fuels me more. I've spent my whole life under a veil, trying to protect myself and my sister. I believed that this is the right way of survival. But what is life without a rush of adrenaline or a wave of fear? Unfortunately, I realized that too late, after I spent decades avoiding roller coasters and water slides. I was a wimp, still is. I can't wait till I shed this skin of mine. And I wonder if this is even possible.
And some other times, I wander within my head. In places as deserted and as dangerous. It's overwhelming how complicated a human brain can be. How deep and dark. I marvel the intricacy. It scares me sometimes, I admit. The secrets it keeps. The coils and twists. The alluring control. I admire. I fear.
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Her Name Is Havoc
Mystery / ThrillerLoss. Inexplicable loss. A loss you can't even grieve because no one else admits to it. After all, how can you grieve over something that was never really there? Or was it? Richard never had a high school sweetheart, not even a prom date. He neve...
