Death Without Memory

It always starts with color.

Colors, shimmering, glittering, bleeding into the sky that had previously been painted of grey. Grey becomes charcoal until red starts to boil in, veins of orange stretching across the sky.

I wake up every time to color.

This time, it's red, orange, and yellow, fire painted across the sky. It's like God has let an artist use the sky as their canvas one final time before their death.

Around me, things start to highlight. There is no one here, no one but the organisms that crawl around rocks. If any animal looks my way, all they will see is an open area, void of anything but the air and the sun's rays.

This is the start of this world.

This is where it all begins.

That is all I can remember.

You are Death. You are the ruler of a world beyond life.

That is what I'm supposed to be.

But, when I touch onto the world where life exists, all I can feel is absolute fascination towards it. A blossoming flower. A fluttering, delicate and dainty butterfly letting itself fly over the fields.

I kneel, letting my fingers ghost over the petals. Underneath my hands, tendrils of color etch themselves into the petal's surface, black against baby pink.

Standing one more, I cast my gaze out to the field.

"This world shall be mine to control."