I sat down on the couch streaming down my face, I was completely and utterly average. My name wouldn't be remembered for anything. No one would refer to me as hero, a great person or even as a good thing. I won't be remembered. I felt an uneasy feeling stir, forming a lump in my throat. I wouldn't be remembered. Nothing I have done will matter in tens years time. I will not be a symbol of the great, my name will be wiped away the moment I die. Sure maybe some people will cry, but they'll move on eventually.
Somehow the lump eased instead of growing, none of my mistakes would be remembered. None of my embarrassing moments would matter. None of the moments that haunt me still, those memories will just die with me. I felt an emotion stir, this one the opposite of uneasiness. This one was freeing and wild, this one made me want to scream for hours and let everyone hear.
I will not be remembered.
My actions and name won't be remembered.
My actions have no worthy consequence.
I can do whatever I want with no consequence.
I am truly free.
A/n (I have no idea what that means but people use it before doing notes like this so imma do it ahaha) sorry for the short ass chapter, but it was more of a vent then actual writing so please enjoy it 💜
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What the gods fear
RandomAnamelia Corraine was in every way average. She didn't have a special talent, or something she was extremely bad at either. Her name would be forgotten when she died and that filled her with restlessness, a chaotic energy that couldn't be harnessed...
