Tears dropped onto the black ink, causing it to smear. The wet droplets caused the blue lines and the black ink to blur into a shade of colors that one could not find in a typical crayon box. Her hand moved gracefully across the paper as words began to form, most of it making sense, yet it had a poetic rhythm.
She sat in the corner at a table, the library was lowly lit. It was finals week for college kids, so the library was staying open very late for kids cramming in last minute study sessions and all nighters. She looked down at the paper as she wrote the last six words.
Her Writing:
The beginning of my end was my birth. I look around and I see these humans that walk around, some with faith in God, some with no faith. I, however am a believer even though half of me is completely contradictory of the purity and free of sin lifestyle that God represents. I may be a demon, but I am also an angel. If the devil is real, so is God.
I am twenty-two years, I was born on the first of April, 1994. I weighed 3 pounds and 2 ounces, I have white hair and grey eyes. I grew up to height of 5'1 and I weigh only 100 pounds. Now , you may ask why I am choosing to describe myself, but I feel as though you should get to know how the author, narrator, and main character of the story looks like.
You ask, how can my birth be the end if I hadn't even lived yet. Well, to begin with, I was the product of an affair. My mother is a whore of hell and my father is the angel of fire, too many drinks were served and not enough protection was worn. My father was killed soon after the finding out of his sinful actions with the whore that is a demon that is my mother.
I was a product of a one night stand that was suppose to never happen.
I was suppose to never happen.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
The Chapters of My Ending
General FictionWhat is a beginning without an end; what is an end without a beginning. What if the beginning was the end? What if my beginning was the beginning of my end? The start of my life was the end of my life.
