This is Euphoria

prolouge

Warning: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either figments of my imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This story contains mature content.

athena's pov

One of the most truly beautiful things the world has to offer are sunrises.

That is true and has remained true even through all the hardships that plague the Earth.

The nighttime darkness brings the daytime glory.

I think about this as I sit in a sea of white that is my bedding. As long as I'm underneath the protection of my comforter none of my troubles can reach me.

It would be ignorant of me to feel pity for myself when the world is painted red with such savage bloodshed.

Truth be told, no tragedy has ever been bestowed upon me; I have two parents who, despite the fact that they're divorced, love my brother and I with everything they have. Somehow, I've managed to land a job even in the midst of the crazy usa economy. I have friends whom I would die for, and from my recollection would die for me. I must exalt that the biggest challenge I face right now is the fact I work an eight hour shift tomorrow.

In conclusion, I should be grateful for everything I do have. I have no valid reason to dwell on the minuscule things I don't have, right?

The problem is, my obdurate self won't allow my mind to think in that manner. It's something I'm ashamed of, yet I always push back changing that aspect about myself.

So, as I watch the sun slowly reach its peak in the sky from my bed, I can't help but dwell on everything my life could be.

Is that such a selfish thought? Is it wrong for me to want to better myself, to want to give myself more?

I fear if I ever said those words aloud it would bring people to mayhem and they'd therefore peg me for a spoiled, ungrateful brat.

It's not that as a child I was drowned it excessive luxuries on behalf of my parents, that wasn't the case at all. I moved out the first opportunity I got. I worked for months straight to gear myself up. By doing that, I provided myself with everything I have.

Incredibly, I'm managing my life all on my own. I understand how it must seem to fall just short of perfect.

I applaud myself for everything I've been able to build for myself, but I can't help but feel that there's a piece of my life just waiting to be discovered.

My life is boring. It's too stiff. It's a routine: Wake up. Eat. Work. Eat. Sleep.

There's something I'm missing out on. I can feel the dissatisfaction like it's a fire coursing through my body.

It's like an itch your arms fall just short of reaching.

I feel like I'm wasting my days away. I know the feeling won't part from me until I find the perfect distraction.

After all, who knows me better than I do?