Being a hero had always been my dream. Not just a
As my chest constricts and my heartbeat settles in sollen resignation, I am swept away by a current of regret and anguish. I was supposed to be the rock that weathered the treacherous tides, so why do I now feel that my actions--my motives and beliefs--have always been not my own, but that of fate?
I wonder where it all went wrong; it had only been a mere ten years since that hopeful boy had laughed at himself in the bathroom mirror as he practiced his smile before the first day of high school. Was I ever truly that person, or was I always destined to be the monster that I am now? The choices I've made, the actions I've taken, the lives I've destroyed—I am bombarded with a palpable yet incomprehensible torrent of emotions.
For me, it was always a question of when, not if, I'd become the hero. Yet in my path to realize my dream, I had trampled others belonging to those I had sworn to protect.
As death's cold tendrils encircle my heart, my mind is engulfed by unconscious desires and unfulfilled promises. I can only hope that my actions carried weight. That my legacy will be remembered in awe, not fright. That by succumbing myself to darkness, I am paving the way for a new light to break through in the future.
Maybe it's a desperate attempt to atone for the destruction I left in my wake, or seek redemption from the various souls I've collected and the shattered ones I left behind; I now feel overwhelming despair at the thought of being unable to remedy my wrongdoings.
The darkness claims me. I feel the fallacious power I've grasped onto in my blind pursuit of power disintegrating before my eyes—a facade of control that tricks me into forgetting my weaknesses. I was merely a puppet in fate's cruel test of my arrogance, all my struggles, sacrifices, and victories ultimately in vain.
I draw my dying breath, imparting this world with a wish that someday, somewhere, there will be a light to guide the lost through the anguish and despair I wrought upon them.
YOU ARE READING
The End.
Historia CortaWith every story comes an end, but what if there were infinite ways for it to conclude? Will it be a happy ending, a tragic one, or something unexpected? Only one way to find out.
