The Few
- Reads 16
- Votes 1
- Parts 1
WARNING THIS STORY WILL BE BAD WARNING
In other stories they will tell you everything was perfect before something bad came , life was magnificent no matter the tax break you where in. Because of a horrible thing that came unexpected that made everything so horrible, and it leaves the hero fighting for more and winning . This is not that kind of story. It was never meant to be, anyway.
Met Malaya Rosemary, a twenty-two year old, who is just looking toward the end of everything and anything. With the economy at a record low for nearly five years it was hard to find a job of even a stripper on the corner for that matter.
With half the people dreaming of a way out and the other half not wanting to wake up in the morning. A man with dazzling zaffre eyes and a tong made out of sliver comes a long and pulls the world on a war path that has gone out for millions of years. What will become of the world? What will happen to Malaya? Who will win? Who will die in the end?
I guess it's true what people say. You will not see the devil until he is right in front of you slapping the daylights out of you.
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#533
rosemary
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Without warning it began! The inevitable, I think it's fair to assume this book is not in my possession. This means I'm most likely dead. Most nights I wrestle the reason I have chosen to explain what happened, the things we did to each other, things no human being should witness. I Wright this simply to enlighten your poor soul and give you more of a chance than I had. A chance to survive what is most likely the brink of human extinction. Times are harder now and as the days go by we are less of our former selves. We have become husks floating around in a lost, desolate world. I look at this place and it still seems so alien to me, as the days roll into the nights I'm still unsure of how we got to this point. If you are reading this, you too are probably North and very much aware of what has happened to our beloved city. I feel a responsibility to inform you that you will most likely share the same fate as I have. I understand you may be wondering what's worse than death, trust me in this place death seems like a paradise compared. I do not know why I still feel so obligated to write this. To be honest most nights I think its just an escape from the madness, like a natural sedative it's the only way I can fall asleep in this hell. However I do need to clear my conscious and pay dividend for my demons. I need you to know what happened to me; I need you to know what we have become and what we are capable of. I need you to know why we have chosen to kill each other, why the smell of human flesh lingers in the air like slow roast pork on a Sunday afternoon. Why bodies litter our streets. Why things that seemed to be so impossible happen in front of our very own eyes. Why conformity i this place is the unreal ideas people live their lives by and why I was included into this group of youthful abominations. All of this might be irrelevant compared to what I am about to tell you.
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