Fragile

Chapter One: Crazy

I, Sophia Ignis, am insane. Ten years in an asylum can do that to you. I keep telling myself that if I know I'm crazy, I can't be crazy. I just can't seem to believe it. When you've spent your whole life as an outcast, a burden on society, a disgrace. You start to believe things. I believe that I am not a person who is loved. Not that I don't deserve to be loved. I'm just not loved. It doesn't bother me as much as it used to, I've gotten quite used to it. I used to be so self conscious and scared. All. The. Damn. Time. I guess I've gotten a bit jaded in the past decade.

Let me explain a bit about my current predicament. I have what I guess people would call fire power, a bit funny since my last name is Latin for fire. I disintegrate things for the most part. I can also create fire, but only when I am really mad. A real rarity seeing as I've been a bit of a sociopath over the last nine and a half years.

"Food." The guard barks. Another thing about this place, there are a ton of guards. I'm guessing they are supposed to make sure the crazies stay in their cells. Although the island is pretty isolated, they can't risk the idea of us getting away. People would know that most of us were crazy pretty quickly. They are usually able to tell from a mile away. The screams are enough. Many years in this god forsaken place and you kind of get used to them. I sometimes make up stories about what they are saying. I really have no idea. This place is heavily guarded as well as thick walled. Lucky me. That eliminates the chance making friends. 

Over the years, I've concluded that we are in a scientific facility. It's not that I consider myself extremely smart, but I can put two and two together. The guards always talk about something with a world and a something with a future. Both things have nothing to do with me. Nobody comes near me. The guards bark in one word sentences, the scientists never investigate me, and I destroyed to cameras in my room a long time ago.  My life has already become a dystopian fiction novel, I don't need people watching me as well.

In the bits and pieces I have heard from guards who talk, seeing as my cell is so conveniently located about eight yards from the hallway that the guards smoke and talk in, I've concluded we are on an island. The world was breaking when I left it, who knows what torturous things humans have done to it since then. The world could be in shreds for all I know. I don't even care anymore. Maybe I will be destroyed along with it. Its only wishful thinking seeing as though they have kept me alive long enough to need or want me for something important. I assume they couldn't just let me die.

The soldiers, complain about many things quite often. About the shortage of food everywhere, the rarity of water, the destroyed lands in many places, and especially about how hot it is outside. Even in the winter. I personally don't know when it is summer or winter seeing as we are underground but I really don't care to know the difference. They just complain all year long, and all day. They say that they would be happy to live in one of these cells with the crazies. Because "at least they could escape the heat". They wouldn't do that. I'm almost certain that they are scared of me, of us. They wouldn't want to live here. Not in a million years. The stories I hear of what the guards and scientists do to other subjects/prisoners are enough to want to stay at least 100,000 miles away from this island at least. From my point of view, they have no right to complain. Oh how tragic you get to walk around freely without killing anybody by accident, or being looked at with disgust, or get thrown out by your parents at the age of five. 

Actually, I don't know if they were thrown out by their parents. I know nothing about their lives. What I do know is I don't need anything from them and I definitely don't need to hear their complaints. Other then necessary things like food and water. I would be able to survive just fine on my own. Well to be completely honest, I do need my sanity but sadly its too late for that. Seeing as I lost it right about the time of my first mental breakdown. That was when I realized I wasn't being moved again. The day after my 7th birthday I was moved to this location. Before that I had been in many asylums and jails between the ages of 5 and 7.

I've had countless therapists, psychiatrists, doctors, examiners, handlers and people who just stare. There have been more ashes in my life than people. More people who hate me than even know me. More things destroyed than I've had. More gloves to protect others than clothes. It doesn't bother me anymore. Eventually I will get my revenge. Eventually I will be able to see the outdoors. Eventually I will finally be able to be free. Until then I must deal with the stupidity of others. It must be contagious idiocy, otherwise they would know that you have to be nice to the crazies. After all you never know when they are going to snap.

I've reached that point. No, I've gone way past it. The people, in my case, were not smart. Therefore humanity will pay. People say that you have no right to take another's life. Then why did they take mine? A person with no heart, has no life. Or do they? I mean, I'm still breathing. Guess I do have a heart. Only a beat up one. 

I don't mind. When I break out of this place it will slowly heal. I will eventually no longer be crazy (possibly) and I will eventually not be crushed. Piece by piece, I will heal. Just as piece by piece, the world will break. I will break it. Slowly. So they can feel  the pain.

I guess I really am crazy. Sane people don't plot their revenge on the world. Then again, what is considered sane? Who decides who is crazy and who is sane? Is every person who hates the world crazy? If so, who is sane? I don't know. People can decide that later. After they are all gone.

***********************************************

(A/N) Thank you so much for deciding to read my book! I'm not going to bore you with a long paragrapgh but I just wanted to let you know that I am a very slow writer that takes a really long time to post new chapters. I also tend to abandon projects, unless a get support (which you guys can help me with). Again, thank you for reading my story and I hope you enjoy.

P.S. This book is not only about Sophia trying to destroy the world. Don't be scared.

XOXO Chloe <3

Originally Published April 19, 2018