Spitting Blood into a Fish Tank Vol. I [A Wish to Wish]

01 - her end

01 - her end

Life, a word that humans understand effortlessly, yet men have abandoned to live in the morality of life itself.

Men lack in many as they live through their life, thus a wish is born.

Men could only wish that their wishes would come to reality, little did they know that the wish is just an abstract mindless feeling to complete the lack of their life, whether they know or not that their wishes are distorted or reversed within another.

People are so varied in the way they exist.

They, who are but common people, are born sinless, live tainted, and die forgotten.

As for them, the supreme, born, live, and die full of grace and gold. Flaws hidden so carefully under their silky bedsheets.

There was once a tale, that the common people bicker around in the dark corners of the alley, a tale that they would believe and forget as if it were dust.

A tale, a story, that one heard from particularly anyone.

The legend of two immortals that battle the Heavens and Hell for immortality and their last string of hope.

The once broken human beings of a common people, who were born pure, live rotted, and die ostracized, prayed to their Gods. The Gods that they create for themselves, to keep them breathing.

The human beings of a common people devoted their faith, soul, blood, and flesh to their Gods, wishing to be embraced in the warmth and darkness of their Gods.

Who would've thought that the wish itself is a prayer, but just like any other human being, their wish is muffled within others.

They, the poor forgotten souls don't even know what they truly wish for.

Alas, their prayer has been heard and they were born again as their Gods.

The Gods that they create for themselves, the perfect creatures that they wish to be.

But common people are just common people, they are never drawn in others' history of life and death. They are busy making paper money and children.

So, the legend ends there, without a specific ending.

Common people have many things in general, especially when it comes to helping others in need, they always think of the reward before lending a hand.

If they don't get one, they won't even lay a finger to meddle in.

And so, when they find the legend unprofitable and complicated to their never-ending lust for money and shallow mind, the end of the story is never heard and is eventually forgotten.

After all, they are but common people, their space of logical mind is never vast.

And among the common people, lived a girl, the once oh, so bright living beastly flower.

She was in the hues of turquoise and paled sea-green.

Like it or not, the girl attracts dozens of bees and insects. But just like any other flower, she withers.

She has always loved red, crimson was her favorite.

So when her white shirt was painted in her bloody familiar-looking liquid, when the clean daisy-colored floor tiles became slippery, when the insect has come to suck the flower's honey again, the first thing that the girl could think was 'Art!'

She screamed and whimper as the sharp blade plunge into her stomach as if she were a roasted chicken, ready to be served.

Yet, no one cared, no one bothered of her desperate cries, no one considers of her existence.

After all, the common people never want to meddle in a black business.

The raw flesh rips open again, again, and again.

On the nth time it digs in, she looks just like a fine abstract portrait painted by red.

The lifeless body slumps onto the solid, warm floor as blood flows around the tiles, painting the magnificent scene of death.

'Heavens! Hell!' Lita twirls her fingers on the crimson blood, 'You crazy-witted naked angels and mischievous devils!'

The stunning flower was once called Lita Dan.

But who will remember a name from thousands of names the world could hold?

'I didn't sign up for any of your drama dog urine!' Lita grit her teeth, '#ing reincarnate me!'

Now, she has finally withered, she is no longer a part of life. She has finally died and every second of it was never pleasant.

Once Lita Dan, ends with a no-name wilted flower.

AUTHOR'S CORNER

"No!" the girl falls to the cold floor.

In the night of Spring, an author cries bitterly, "Dear Diabolik Lovers readers, this author had once promised to continue this author's DL fanfiction..."

Slowly, her hand reaches to another glass of YouC1000, and with all might, she shouts, "This author has come back from the dead to fulfill her promise!!!"

Suddenly, a loud thunder bangs from the background, creating a murderous scene of might, "With these ten fingers, a dying brain, and a strong will, this author had written volumes after volumes of original works and fanfictions!"

"Behold!" the author lifts her computer to the gracious Heavens, "The first volume of Spitting Blood into a Fish Tank!!!"