christinarcurran
Lights.
Red lights. Glowing like the nonexistent stars, replacing them like society to humanity.
It wasn't always like this. Happiness ruled over the perplexing mishaps of the societys abyss, a gilded age of happy mischief, conserving the only light. Pure. White. Replaced by red.
Only those of pure light could see past the light that blinded yet blacked our own souls of abyss. The only ones. The Others.
I was not an Other, nor was I a Conformity. Therefore, I was nothing.
The perplexing abysmal was no match for the Others, of course. With the blackened future, only the past was painted with light. Only the past could survive the disarray and live on the hope that consumed the Others.
But that was the past.
The future is the future.
The future is now.
Nothing will survive like the past.
However, I am nothing.