Dead Wrong
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- Parts 1
Ongoing10m
Last published Sun, Feb 27, 2022
Before I tell you anything I need to make something clear. I did not plan any of this. I didn't sit down with my friends, take a long sip of my drink and go 'yep. let's go cause some trouble'. It really did all happen on accident, we just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. The fact that most of us are Wielders mean nothing. We probably would have been caught up in this without any powers. It's just the type of people we are. Terrible. Stubborn. Curious. But we didn't want this. Not initially. We just wanted to pass our classes, get settled in our new college and just... get to know each other. Not start a whole mini uprising and small scale war in our tiny town. We just did what we thought was best. What felt right.
But enough of that. I've warned you so please don't judge us too harshly. Or at least wait until I've finished telling you about what has objectively been the weirdest period in my short life so far.
If I had known that day, before I walked into that classroom, what would happen to me and the people I would then be grouped with, would I have done the same? Or just ditched and gone home? Not a chance.
I wouldn't trade them for the world.
Not even to save my own skin.
~ Bramble Livingstone
All Rights Reserved
#20
necromancy
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" I scrub and scrub trying to make it go away. I'd happily go back to walking around internally dead than whatever this is. Watching the crimson substance go down the drain and off my skin- out of sight, out of mind, except it's not going away. I hated that pain was temporary but this... this pain I don't want it. I don't want to feel this. Tears begin to well in my eyes making my vision blurry. Weak. Anger surges in my veins and impulsively my fist connects with a tile on the wall of the shower shattering it. This is emotional. I don't do that. I don't do this- I don't cry in the shower. I don't let my emotions dictate my actions I haven't in a long time. It's stupid. It's childish. It's weak. I glance down at my knuckles on my right hand, watching the tiny cuts heal. Shouting, I punch the tile over and over and over again until blood runs down my arm and drips onto the shower floor. I reach my severely broken hand out under the water, momentarily stinging as water hits the open wounds which unfortunately close over seconds later. I crack whatever bones need it, back into place and look around me. The back wall of the shower is destroyed, shards of tile and blood scattered on the floor. As I stand under the scalding hot stream staring into nothing my mind falls silent for a split second. A few seconds of solace until everything comes crashing back. The tightness in my chest and my stomach, the cloudiness in my brain, the anger, the sadness. It all comes back. I sit down away from the shattered pieces of tile, curling my legs up and letting the near boiling water hit my back. There was a feeling of relief in losing everything I was. Whatever it is that has clawed it's way to the surface, I want it gone. I want that relief back. "
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