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YOU WERE A CASHIER in your parents convenience store who only worked after school every other day. You would see people come in and out of the sliding doors, familiar faces appearing once in awhile as you had slowly grown to treasure your regular customers.
From a very young age your parents had taught you the craft that was hard work and determination. They instilled these ideas in you pretty early on in life, hoping that they would carry on with you as you grew older, wiser.. more mature.
If those characteristics hadn't stayed with you throughout the years, you would have no clue as to the person you could've been. You preferred to stick by your parents advice, and it's molded you into being a successful human being. You had only been a first year student when your teachers called your home to brag about your all straight A's and a clean track record; they complimented you for being a seemingly average girl with a sharp mind.
You however didn't concern yourself much with meaningless things. Compliments only lasted seconds, not a lifetime. --You had a one track mind that was set for success and nothing less would be acceptable for you. Now being a third year student, you're expected to graduate this year and set off to a university of your choice in order to study for your future and make your family proud.
But don't be fooled, as just because you have impeccable grades, it doesn't mean that you don't have your own free time or free will. Like any other parents, yours always held you in high regards; yet they respected the fact that you were a child with feelings and emotions. And with that understanding, they've let you decide things at your own pace.
You had no sort of obligation to go straight to university after graduating high school, yet you have chosen to go straight to university anyways. Even if your parents had blatantly spoken out about you taking your time in choosing a career path to study. But you had always semi-knew what you wanted to pursue as a career.
History related matters always piqued your interest as a child, --and continue to do so to this day.
Ramblings of ancient civilizations, ancient languages and art forms, undiscovered mysteries that laid below the earths surface, covered in soil and all sorts of grime.. all of it had intrigued you, and it continues to do so till this day. So with that being presumed, your dream career would involve some classification of archaeology or historian related work.
Making your own ground breaking discoveries sounded like a pleasant idea, one that made your chest swell with pride and joy as you dream of how interesting your life could and would be in the near future.
A career like archaeology would surely make you more than enough money to give your parents an early retirement and comfortable lifestyle.
Yet as your eyes hazily stared upwards towards the convenience stores dull flickering lights from your situated place on the ground-- all those dreams seemed like an absolute impossibility.
Your body felt as if it were on fire. Your head was clouded and left you feeling lightheaded as you lifted it to glance at the strangely adorned arrow that had mercilessly impaled your stomach area, blood oozing out from the deep wound as now stained onto the stores floor tiles. Would this be how you met your demise? At eighteen years old while working the night shift at your parents convenience store?
You couldn't die.. not like this. There had been so many ambitions stored in your mind for the future, so many mysteries out there that have been left unsolved as they laid in the ground buried, waiting for you to come and find them. Yet here you were, bleeding out on the floor as you gasped for any sort of air.
The sound of thumping footsteps lazily made you gaze at the appearance of your assailant. They loomed over you with an aura of curiosity, a curiosity so sinister that it made you shudder even in your final moments. Their face had been skillfully covered by a surgical mask, and their head hidden behind the confines of a black hoodie.
This person; this stranger, stared on at you with a glint of curiosity in their eyes and it made your stomach churn in pure disgust. Was this bastard seriously getting a kick out of seeing a seemingly innocent bystander die?
You assailant had soon loomed over your pale figure, crouching down to look at you better. This final action had allowed you to get a closer look at them as your eyes caught onto one significant feature; a single lone strand of blond hair poked out of their hoodie, allowing you to identify something about your cold blooded killer.
The blonde strand teased you. Lightly waving around with your killers leisurely movements.
It was a bit ironic to you, knowing an identifying feature that would surely bring your killer into the hands of justice. Yet deep down you knew that this wouldn't do anything to save or spare you from the cold embrace of death.
There was a lot of irony behind your death. You had so much worth to offer the world, yet it was turning it's back on you. So much could've manifested from your future, and here you were with heavy lidded eyes that only seemed to go against your own will as you pleaded for them to stay open.
The final thing you felt before fading away had been the harsh force of the arrow pierced inside of your stomach being ripped from it's place. Your body going numb as you had soon become a dead girl.
YOU HAD SO MUCH TO OFFER, BUT NOT ENOUGH TIME TO MAKE IT COME TRUE..
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