fate is entangled with the term mistake.
but one should remember ... accidents
may appear purposely or perhaps
happen out of the blue. either way
good and bad will always linger on.
George Weasley x Female Original Character
Goblet of Fire - D...
chapter i , My Serenity Of The Now , I Calm Myself For I Am A Broken Record
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˗ˏˋ 🫐 'ˎ˗
Misery was enviable, it came with the form of human life. Mature was a tragedy waiting to take place at the right moment. Plants grew in the spring, sprouted in a ray of sunshine and equity. Alas, plants perished in the winter, weather prohibited the hues of organisms, dull skies clouded the earth with gloom and tranquillity.
The stillness brought a quiet sense of realization. Life as a whole was a never ending journey of discovery and death. We die and then are reborn into the form of another. Our souls; once full of life and smiles, become lost and forgotten to the glory of success given to the survivors. Accepting death with a simple task; maturity could understand the time and place. Cheating death however, was a rabbit's hole all on its own.
There are two different types of people in the world; the population split in half by the demographics of belief. Those individuals who firmly believe that everything in life happens for a reason; whether it be natural selection or small accidents. Ones who welcome death with head held high and a heart full of reason, finding peace with their eternal decision.
The pessimistic mindset invaded the other half of the population. Dreading day after day, night comes night. Fearful and skeptical of what is in store. Make the wrong choice and die, make the right choice and face the possibility of dying. Stay at home away from the danger, could die in a house fire. Go out, could die in a car wreck. Risks were a pessimist's worst nightmare, there was no good ... not anymore.
Celine Monet was undoubtedly the former. The soft touch of a woman, the whisper of wisdom paired with passion. Love drowned her being, pouring into anything around. Celine was what womanhood was meant to be. Her laugh was bright and clear, a gorgeous face on the strong body of a mother. A plump stomach matched with a charmed smile of joy and eyes of gold.
She lived and laughed. A beauty mark just under her left eye was a feature of purity. A goddess birthed her, gifted her from the heavens. Aphrodite gazed at her lovingly from above, proud of her influence. Never a bad day, the sun shined, played in the rainfall, and positively shaped her life with grace. Sophisticated and elegant in the simplicity of a rundown society.
Her daughter, Indigo Monet, named after the spiritual meaning of the name; rich with wisdom and smothered in creativity. Much like her name was a girl in the jumbled mess of girlhood. An intelligent child she was, top of her class. Indie, as she preferred to be called, was a dreamer; a planner. Organized with poise, politeness was the most powerful tool a human could hold. The cruel world didn't know how to handle the kind gesture of a smile or the curtsy of a thank you.
