Hello, my name's eggnog

Hello, my name's eggnog

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Tue, Sep 4, 2018
I don't even know my real name anymore. I am always and always will be called eggnog. The only thing people know about me is that my name is eggnog. I don't even know what I am anymore, a girl, monster, goddess. Am I even alive, am I death, or just delusional. I don't remember how it stared, or how it will end, but I know it's her fault. She did this to me. To my face. To my arm and back. Everything that was mine is now given to them. She did this to my life. Now it's her turn. But please, remember, it was the my only way out. ---------------------------------------------------------- Eggnog thinks she has it bad. But little but she know that her sins granted her a gift that only others dream of. She is a goddess, but at a cost. She must save a world unknown to her. A world filled with unknown danger and creatures that made nightmares look like a walk in the park. A world that fears her, but they don't know how much they need her. Will she fight to the every end to save them, or kill them all in revenge for what they've done to her. Who knows?
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I used to believe monsters lived under the bed. Now I know better. They wear human skin. The chains bite into my wrists again as I try to squirm, but I don't cry anymore. Crying makes it worse. Crying makes me weak. That's what he says, anyway. "Big girls don't cry," he sneers, dragging the blade slowly across my stomach. "You're not a baby anymore, are you?" I try to be silent. I try to be still. But the pain makes my body twitch. The blood trickles like warm tears down my ribs. I squeeze my eyes shut and pray for the darkness to swallow me whole. It doesn't. I wish I could remember my mother's voice. My father's face. My brothers- Were they even real? Or just dreams I invented to survive? Time doesn't exist here. Only pain. And him. He says my name like it's a curse: Alessia. He tells me pain is my teacher. That fear will become my friend. That one day, I'll thank him for turning me into something more than a girl. He's wrong. I'm not more than a girl. I'm something else entirely. Because one day, I stop praying for the pain to end. I start learning from it. One day, I take the knife from his hand. One day, he bleeds. That's the day I stop being Alessia, the little girl. And I become something far worse.

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