FLAWSOME;
An individual who embraces their "flaws" and know they are awesome regardless.
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ONYX'S POV
It's said the light when a person dies is there to guide the soul into the body of another being brought into the world.
Another research describes death as the end, there isn't reincarnation.
I never put my mind to death, I knew it would visit me one day and take me away, especially with my stepmother's consistent abuse.
Perhaps I should have put my mind to it, perhaps I should have prepared myself. The strangest thing is no one is ever properly prepared for death, it came when we least expected it and snatched away our souls to where I doubt anyone has ever researched to.
Could this be where death snatched everyone to?
I turn around, it was dark but I could tell I'm all alone and it was a big room.
I'm all alone in this big space, it has walls, I can tell since I can't see the sky—the room is quite big and seems unending.
The material of the dress against my skin is oddly soft, like flower petals—I'm barefooted too, "Hello?" My voice is also oddly soft, tiny but it echoes down.
A crease grows on my forehead, "Hello—" suddenly it feels like there are fingers wrapped around my throat making it hard for me to get words out, the once-dark room becomes bright, a little too bright that it forces me to shut my eyes painfully; hold my throat as the feeling increases.
The ground underneath my feet shifts drastically that it forces me to fall back, my head makes contact with the surprisingly hard fall—with a gasp I open my eyes.
Like a huge white curtain blanket has fallen over me, an endless void. I can't deny the great amount of fear that has gripped my heart, being alone in such a large space.
When I look around there are two paths, two doors that lead to where I don't know.
Slowly, with one hand on a knee, I rise to my feet and pant heavily. The fingers around my throat disappear, I walk to the paths and stand in the middle in confusion.
And for the first time since I've gotten to this strange place, a tiny voice in my head whispers. "Left." A whistle of wind passes fly that brushes past me.
I inhale taking a step back knowing the voices in my head can never be trusted, all they do is hurt me and force me to hurt someone.
A sharp pain appears in my head and I fall to my knees grasping my head with widened eyes, and harsh breaths.
Memories of stabbing a particular god replay in my head, memories of Erica hitting me replay soon it begins to feel real—a sting on my back that forces me forward, one sting turns two and so it multiplies.
The white cotton dress begins to soak, and blood pools around me pouring from the sting on my back.
They say death is peace, but this isn't peace, this is a replay of everything wrong that happened while I was alive.
ВИ ЧИТАЄТЕ
In The Arms Of Hades
Паранормальні явищаHades is filled with hate, anger, and vengeance, his only source of happiness is when people die and he knows their families are sad. His siblings would do anything to prove that they love him and so they created her, but Hades wants nothing to do w...
