idk whats going on i just copy and pasted a creative story from english i did in like yr10 and idk what to do cba.
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There is a consistency developed over time.
Dating back millennia, as humans have evolved into the species we are today, there has been the recurring pattern of destruction inflicted onto one another, caused by the need for power. The desire for power. The greed for power that leads one to kill in order to obtain it.
Superiority. Leadership. Dominance.
What comes with holding power is a mere bonus, an afterthought on the hunt and road to gaining power. It is the status that matters. The endorphins released, the masculinity it upholds, the confidence it grants, at the securing of it.
But it is the lack of power one holds, that drives man to insanity. The constant desire, the compliant nature of man as they go on their hunt for power, destroying everything obstructing their path to it. That is the scariest of all. And once they obtain that power, there is nothing stopping them from reigning hell on those below them.
But it is only a matter of time before avarice triumphs jurisdiction, and that avarice begins to slowly eat away at the host, from the bottom up, slowly but surely rotting away at the foundation of his realm, as man can do nothing but watch, as his entire empire comes crashing down to nothing.
Sofia Lopez -
"For fuck's sake," I mutter under my breath, before letting my anger overcome me as I scream, "LET ME OUT!" tugging at the chains that held me captive in a means to free myself, but to no avail.
It has been 13 days, 11 hours, and 34 seconds, since the moment I got thrown in here for committing treason against the kingdom. 13 days since I last saw sunlight, since I last felt the sun shining on my skin, warming the surface of it. 13 days since I last felt the wind brushing against my skin, enveloping me in a gentle but comforting hold. 13 days since I last ate a proper meal, one that consisted of anything but scraps.
13 days since I got in here, yet it had been 15 days since my real imprisonment began, since my real torture commenced. 15 days since I last saw him, and it is now that my sanity hangs by a thread, that grows more precarious with every second that I stay locked in this hell hole, chained to the floors like an animal.
The words ring endlessly in my head, filling the void of silence, as I sit slumped against the wall of the damp, isolated cell, head heavy in my hands. I know nothing of how I look, with no mirror in the confines of the bare room. All I know is that I'm clad in a pair of dirty joggers, and a ragged, worn out jumper that I've been wearing for the past week, with blood trickling down my face into my mouth, leaving a metallic aftertaste.
With no bed to sleep on, I begin to lie down onto the stiff, concrete slab beneath me as dreariness overcomes me, turning to my right and curling up, bringing my arms around me. It brings me comfort, which is rare in a place like this, reminding me of the days as a young child sleeping in the warmth of the bed with my parents.
The silence is deafening, with only the harsh whistle of the night winds sounding through the barred window keeping me company. I shiver in the cold of the night, the thin material of the clothes I've been wearing doing nothing to keep me from the plummeting temperatures.
I remain to my right, rubbing my hands up and down my arms in a weak attempt to bring me some warmth, but it requires too much of my energy that I force them to a halt. For what feels like hours, I stay awake, despite the want, the desperate need for some sleep, listening in to the deep stillness that overcomes the hallway, before allowing myself to finally fall into a tranquil sleep, unaware of what was to come.
That was one week ago. It's been days since the incident, and I think I'm going crazy. I've been keeping count, and it's been 43 days since I last saw my family on Christmas day, approximately three weeks before the day came that I turned my back on the kingdom, and since then, I have never looked back. Nothing seems to be happening, forcing me to use my imagination as a form of escape, and I think that is what is making me crazy.
I have become so accustomed to having no human interaction for the past month, that any sign of a conversation sparking up petrifies me. The moment from three weeks ago replays in my head constantly, in an attempt of allowing it to drown out any new traumas that have come from being trapped in this hell-hole, using it as my last thread of hope of the fact that I was not crazy. That I was normal. But I'm not so sure any more.
Everything comes to me in a blur now, a fuzzy distant memory, taunting me of my being now, and I try, I try so hard to allow my brain to consume those memories in full, yet I can't manage to do it. All that has happened since being here has dominated my mind, a phantasmagoria of pure torture, refusing to leave no matter how hard I push them away.
My thoughts halt to a stop when a sudden triad of knocks sound through the thin walls of my cell, echoing through the hall, disturbing the quiet in the dead of the night. Brows drawn in confusion, I still at the sound, steadily sitting up from the position on the floor that I've learnt is the most comfortable, drawing my knees to my chest.
My heart begins to pace, drawing jagged breaths from me, because for the first time in weeks, I think I have company. I don't know who. I don't know how. But I know someone, something, is in extreme proximity to me and I have no idea how to react.
The knocks come again, and again, and again, harder and faster each time, causing me to flinch and scoot away with each contact of the beings fist with the wall. I expect my tears to prickle with tears, with fears of the possible attack I could be facing in a matter of seconds, yet I find myself void of any emotion as the pounding continues.
I seem to have familiarised myself with the knocks, finding comfort in them, envisioning them as a reminder of the fact that I was not in fact alone in this, and that there was someone, or something, in here with me. I stay rocking back and forth to the consistent rhythm of the hammering in beat with the palpitations of my heart, when they come to an unexpected end.
No further sound is heard from the opposite side of the wall, ricocheting off the walls of the hallway. No knocks. Nothing.
With the daunting cloud of misery and silence drawing its way back to haunt me, my vision begins to haze with strange phantasms, as my brain fools me into believing that this matter was simply false. I fall victim to the tactics of my mind once again, which comes as nothing out of the ordinary these past few weeks, letting myself explore this world of fantasies before I find myself back to where it all started.
The terrifying ordeal brings me back to my first days here, with hallucinations of the macabre footage shown to me of the murder, that I have become so brainwashed into believing that I somehow, am involved in the matter. I shake off the thoughts, fighting them as I try to find myself in them, bringing myself back to my doomed reality, nothing different from the horrors of my mind, but it is warming enough to know that I've made it.
Still in my seated position on the floor, my body now aching, I feel myself hot with nerves, shuddering, from being drenched in a cold sweat. This doesn't come as a shock to me, but what does, and brings a chill inducing fear over me, is when the thumping resonates again, echoing in the emptiness of the halls, repeating itself, and I know that this time, I won't escape it.
apologies for keeping our loyal readers thirsty and parched, waiting for more content to flow in, but have no fear, lolzorss is here!!!!🥰soz gals (and boyz, we dont discriminate, although it is quite odd for a boy to have wattpad i fear....) we've just had our wee examents like well 2 months ago for the entire month but cba to write cos we've been chillaxing and rotting in bed. 🤪 also revising???? hello ofc.....ofc we've been busy revising up until the exams...not like we spent hours upon hours watching stupid shows.....anywho principessas. 😋 hope yew love this masterpiece....pls give me 40/40 for creative writing. love you gangdem, you the real onez. even sugar looks like salt.💯see you soon😘😘😘😘😘
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