(Hey guy, just started this story a log with my other one. I'll try to spend time equally on both of them so they'll be finished round the same time. The first chunk of the story/preface is a bit confusing so it helps to read it after reading rhe first couple of chapters to fully understand the plot...hope you like it :D)
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I'd never really given much thought or attention to the end of the world-despite its inevitability as it forever shadowed above the earth, exposed like a naked bulb loosely hung from a cracked ceiling-but if for some unknown reason or moment of blurred lucidity I had, never-not even in my wildest of nightmares which haunted even my own silence-had I thought that I'd live to see it, or survive at the very least.
The only problem was, it was only my world which crumbled around me, turning to dust beneath my small paled feet, blowing away in the breeze of time until it became a distant memory, a forgotten dream, a wish.
I watched, like an outsider looking into my lifeless life, as I slipped further and further, inch by inch, into darkness.
The helpless ore drowned me. The flames couldn't go much higher. Begging silently with my eyes as proud individuals lived on in the cities. But no one, nobody, could give me the power, the strength, the will to lift the iron sky that had cluttered down on me. To be over fear and into freedom.
That was the battle of a life I had been given, a life that dripped down the walls of a dream that cannot breathe, suffocating in my pain. Breathless in this harsh reality.
A great man once poised, shouting out to a crowd of bitter men surrounded by fears of human progress and hatred, "The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed", and his voice speaking of a free and beautiful life made of wonderful adventures, possible if our power collides together, if we unite.
His words of wisdom were true, true too all, all except me, powerless and weak. My morbid misery wasn't produced by greed, it was produced my grief. Heart throbbing grief. Where did the misery go them?
Waking in a world destroyed by accident, a world different from what I remember, a world I didn't know. Redemption was impossible with nothing left to redeem yourself for. Sure, redemption was a target, a destination to erase your sins. But what was my sin? Redemption was good. Baby steps back to life.
But what did you do if your life was over, even before it had started? When you're under the threat of turning to metal men with metal minds and metal hearts, where is our redemption? Where is our new beginning? Where is our lucky fortune? What matters?
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What Matters
ChickLitAlone. I know what it feels like to be alone. I know how it feels to have your life ripped from your out stretch arms. I know the pain that consumes you, inch by inch, until you’re swollen in darkness, lost in oblivion. I know loss. I know the hea...