Freedom
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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Jul 17, 2016
My past is blurry, I forgot some of it. It’s sad, not remembering your original world, your planet, your home. All I can remember is the face of a woman, covered in blood while the world around me was on fire. Her words were always graved in my head, “It’s the end, take care of your brother my dear child” Then the land was destroyed in pieces, I ran as fast as I could with my brother following me, then I fainted like my brother because of the heat and fire around us.
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#975
mindcontrol
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I went from a girl who didn't know how to kill to one who knew how to make dying hurt. Dear Diary, It sounds so harmless, so innocent, but what if it wasn't? What if it was the start of a plan to burn down the world? My father was an artist, a visionary, a truly great man; he was also a con man, a contract killer, and despised by everyone. He was the head of the Russian Mafia. Now he's dead. All I have left of him is the hate of those he oppressed, and his journal with a plan to end the world. Everyone always forgets about the villain's family, as far as their concerned we don't exist. We are forgotten, no fame, no fortune, only the residual hate. My name is Neoma Casimir and they have forgotten me too, but trust me when I'm through they won't make that mistake again. The clock is ticking. The end is coming.

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