It hurts knowing that the only reason I survived was because I was dyeing. It hurts knowing that I am one of the 'lucky' ones. It hurts knowing that so many people died, and I just happened to survive.
Things got to our heads, things got inside our minds and managed to use that against us. It was like a virus, infecting us, killing us off one by one. I'm alone now, alone with my thoughts and my mind. The same mind that people said would kill me some day, the same mind that keeps me sane.
I sit alone in my room, afraid that they are still out there, that they will soon take me too. But then there's always that thought, of what if they aren't there, what if they are gone and this is what life is like now?
Insecure
Crazy
Wild
Dangerous
The things that go on in my head are not okay. The things that go on in my head are insecure. Crazy. Wild. Dangerous. How do I know I'm not dead, and that this is just my fate? How do I know what death even is?
Everything is one color. Black. It scares me, knowing that everything is gone. All of the colors, people, and my thoughts. Everyone I know is dead, everyone that kept me alive is dead. All of my motivation is gone, so why aren't I?
A/N
Short first chapter, sorry!
This is a little late, oops! I will try to update this regularly, and have longer updates but for now, this is the first chapter!
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Science FictionThe things that go on in my head are not okay. The things that I think about are not right. The way my mind works is wrong. The way I look at life is dangerous. My whole life I have been looked at as 'broken' like I am a toy. People can break...
