The Recovery
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- Votes 1
- Parts 1
Traitors. They left me to die. To perish.
I watched my best friends get killed.
I watched my mother get murdered.
I watched friendships crumble.
All because of HIM.
I will recover from this.
He will dread the day he messed with me, Sycla Oragati
(Slow Updates) (Rated mature for a reason)
(No cover till i design one)
All Rights Reserved
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WORK IN PROGRESS‼️ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── There was no noise; I was at peace, and ironically, the stone-cold pavement never seemed warmer as my blood oozed out of me and around me like a painted canvas. I was slowly losing consciousness, but my mind never seemed happier now that I was dying. The white walls with big bright lights did not resemble heaven; in fact, it was quite the opposite. I thought I had died. When I came to, I found myself in this strange place, disoriented and confused. I looked around and found another five pairs of eyes looking at me with the same emotion swirling in their gaze. Now, 15 years later, I train with these girls. Our makers take care of us, feed us, and make sure we are clean, healthy, and fit. Some of us never had that; that's probably why it took so long for us to realize we were being used. The dirty work they made us do, none of us questioned it. How could we when we were taken off the streets? For a chance at normalcy, we settled for anything, even if that meant blurring the lines of right and wrong. After a mission gone haywire, we started noticing, and now we strike back to take our voices and reclaim the power that was used on us as a way to control us. After all, they are the ones who trained us; we are just returning our long-overdue favour. ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Rankings : Featured in Mystery-thriller #5 in Mystery-thriller on 7/12/24
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