The ink left the pen smoothly onto the journal, forming words and stories that my mouth couldn't.
"And now I sit here writing my story to you – a damned book. How silly of me?" I spoke aloud to the leather bound journal. It held everything... And no one would get to know what it said.
I sighed, continuing to write on the page. "I thank you for dealing with my burden of a life... Even the hard parts. Even though I didn't give you a choice to- what am I doing? I've gone crazy after all those years, haven't I?" I chuckled to myself and lowly shook my head. "Talking to a book that holds everything about me... Wouldn't that be like talking to myself?"
I slammed the book closed. I had worked on it for nearly a month now and still had yet to give it up. I had the same internal confliction each day... I had to write down my story. I needed it to be remembered.
But what would someone call a life?
A meaningless life?
Adventurous? Stupid. Courageous? Small.
A life that brought life to others... A new world for others to live in. It held less crime than The City but... was it enough? I stared at the ceiling and spoke out to the world – to anyone who cared to listen.
"Is my life truly one to be remembered?"
* * *
Hello! I'm Angel, the author of this story!
Thank you for taking the time to read it! I hope you enjoy the later on chapters.
I know it's an unpopular story, but still. Please do leave a comment or like on the chapters! It's really motivating!
*Note: AE stands for After the End. This is a made up time that is far enough into the future that the world has begun to die, pretty much. Both of natural and manmade causes.
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The Lockup
Science FictionImagine it. The year is 3642 AD. There are more orphans than ever before in the City, but none on the streets. Most reside in the abusive Workhouses. Known crime? None. All the rebels are stuck in the filthy Lockup where you're lucky to have your...
