In a world where living gets harder the more you live, my younger self wanted to live so much that even the living would fear her.
It was a strange desire if now I ought to think about it. Live so well that even the living fears you. Maybe my younger self was onto something. Something precious that all of our younger selfs possessed. Something white. Something completely different than what we possessed now.
Even now when so many things had happened, when my life had turned into a story book itself, the people around me characters I no longer know, the only thing that kept me awake at night was
Would it have been easy? If my younger self did live her life, would it have turned out differently? Would my life still be a story written in a language I was no longer fluent in? Would I even be a part of this story? Something so black?
I guess we can never know that. I lived days. I survived. That's what mattered anyway right. Doesn't matter if I didn't wanna survive. I did and here we are now.
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Where We Are
General FictionHuman beings are lonely creatures. So lonely that they won't hesitate before making a world, even if it just exists in their mind. _ "So, where were we?" "The day I met him I guess." "Tell me more" "Well... it all started with a-" __ He looked...
