How roses lost its scent
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The existence of humans is a façade. A shitty puppet-show that even a 5-year-old wouldn't enjoy. They preach equality and acceptance on tv, but in reality are nothing but layers of skin that got baptized by greed. Or ambition- a term they like to use in order to justify their acquisitive nature.
The first time humans laid their eyes upon my kind, they trembled in fear. But it wasn't because we were scary; they were afraid to lose their authority. Their power. Us, "demons", were a threat to their position in the social pyramid. A thorn to the eye that mankind needed to get rid of. And because of a fucked up superiority complex, hundreds of innocent people lost their lives.
I remembered the way the bodies of my younger sisters and mother became limp and cold. Their fingers that were intertwined with mine had lost strength, but I was still desperately holding on. Not for a moment minding the blood that was sticking in between our palms. Time passed. Flowerbeds turned red, roses lost its scent- in the end all that remained was me.
A young girl filled with rage.
OR
Mary von Lattice wants to avenge her loved ones by taking away the one thing the president loves most: his precious daughter. Saphira Monét.
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#896
characterdevelopment
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