A Little Different

Protologue: ARMY

[FYI (For Your Information): Words highlighted in bold like this are hints for the future.
Fully CAPITAL words like THIS are indicating extreme anger, sadness, happiness or just screaming.
Words in italic like this are for emphasis.
Also, please don't translate OR repost! If you took inspiration, TAG ME.
TY For Your Attention]

Yawning, I stared at the Moon as I sat in my secret spot one snowy December day in 1992. The date was the sixth that day. The part of the forest I was hanging around was quite safe, and the Moon made me feel secured and immortal for a few wondrous minutes. Although no one is. No one possesses eternal life and everyone will die, like that cat you might have seen today or that irritating fly you swore at today. That's the reason elders always tell you to live your life to the fullest. And I try to, but I just don't die. You'd think after one hundred and seventy years of living, I'd die, but no. 

My purpose in life is to... Find a purpose. Find one and fulfil it to the brim, so full that it'll hurt the people I served when I pass. That purpose I haven't found in one hundred and seventy years.

For ages, and even currently, my name is used in wars, soldiers preparing to kill, soldiers ready for blood and death.

Tears spilled as I shook with sadness.
"I don't want that as my meaning!" I cried to the world, which was empty except for the Moon that tried to smile at me.

"Why are you so cruel, world?" I whispered, shaking, "I just want a peaceful life. How can I live like this? Fighting the urge to end it, seeing my friends die... Why are you so unfair, huh?"

"And it's not like I'm immortal and can't get sick. I will get ill and have to take care of myself."

I then quit staring at the Moon and mumbled as I jumped off the cliff I was sitting on, "I'll visit you again soon, Moon."

I strolled out of the forest and dug deep into my hood's pockets to take out my keys and leaving the details, slammed onto my couch.

Although life can be tough sometimes, I thought, brushing my hair out of my face, it's quite nice having a quiet moment to yourself in the house you know you earned all on your own, with the help of no one.

My purple hair was short and pretty like a boy's and I liked it a lot because it reminded me of something that I knew didn't exist in my life. True happiness.

A silvery-like purple were my eyes, with diamonds for pupils (not literally, only shaped like diamonds), followed by a small button nose and strawberry lips. Other than that, I had normal human skin minus the weird blending of black, brown and a lighter brown shown on one of my arms, and a... Questionably normal life.

Everyone thinks I dyed my hair and wear contacts.

Little do they know I'm a purple-haired psycho who turns into a child every five-ish years, yeah, I know, it's weird, but it happens.

It takes a month for me to grow back, but it's still very dramatic. And no, I don't turn into a new born, I merely transform into a six-year-old who still has all its memories.

And yes, I go by 'it', but in front of humans it's usually 'them, they're, she, her, etc.'

End of Protologue: Moon | 24/10/2021

Hae's now signing off! Au revoir~