Devil's Discord

Devil's Discord

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing6m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Jan 14, 2019
I started my morning off with a normal cup of coffee and a complimentary existential crisis. Then the bomb went off. Next thing I knew, I was crawling around, screaming out names and searching for any sign of life. Every person I found was gone, dead as doornails. The social workers and rescue teams showed up hours later, only to find they were too late. They bombarded me with questions, asking anything that could help them figure out this catastrophic event. Nothing came out of those talks. Eventually, they quarantined the area as unsafe, packing up anything of interest or use, and then leaving. For the next few years, I was shuttled around the world, everyone wants to see the only survivor of the Tiksiva Cataclysm. My face became known around the world, the only remnant of an entire civilization. They call me Nesya, the Miracle. I'm under world protection twenty-four/seven and no where close to being normal. But this isn't what I deserve. I should have died with my people, and instead, I'm the face of their loss. Why? Because I'm the reason the bomb went off.
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Static

{COMPLETED} "now that you've had your fun electrocuting me, would you care to hop in the backseat?" ---------------------------------------------------------- Freak DNA. That's what I like to call it. The fault to my genetic code. More often than not, it's a curse. The static running through my blood gave me a name. A cruel, daunting label of a measly bug. A roach. That's what I am to them, to the government. Roach; the nameless monster with electricity for a sense and lightening as a second nature. It ruined my life, the sparking currents playing tag in my mind, running around and bumping into everything, shaking me loose. The government, actually. They ruined my life. My curse just gave them a reason. You see, the normal population with ordinary DNA, they don't know about the people like me. The roaches of the world. We don't get that kind of recognition at the camps. There, we are only one thing in the military's eyes. We are weapons and we will act like it. Everyone else out there, bathing in the goodness they don't know they've got, they don't know about the roaches their stepping on. As long as their getting closer to the sky, they don't care what they stand on to reach it. They don't know about the sparkling dreamer that's killed 7 people before her 17th birthday. They don't about the ghost of a girl peaking around corners for her entire life because even home wasn't safe. They don't know about the fighter of steel and iron sucking on his bloody lip courtesy of the wars he battles in as nothing but a shadow. They don't know about the masked villain who would do anything to see the army they lead claim the throne They don't know about us. But they will, because we will rise. And when we arrive, we will arrive violently. ___________________________________________ Started: 10.06.15 Finished: 3.17.16

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