I ran over to a discarded book in a corner. I flipped it open and read the first page as loud as I could since no one can hear me.
The darkness is welcoming after all this time. Its dark embrace seems almost warm and comforting. Sometimes I beg the darkness for the end of me but all I get is hope that is soon snuffed out like a candle, for there is no answer. The hope that after all these long years there is an end to this everlasting solitude. The whispers of silence echo through the empty corridors of my mind and have become a booming echo of regret and misery. The coldness of the heart is but a summer's breeze compared to the heartache that throbs in my heart, like a clock that I could always count on to keep ticking. To the beat of my heart is a lullaby, but not like the soft songs that you hear when you're little. Not like the ones that help you fall asleep and that embrace you and hold tight to you like your mother did. These are cold and unforgiving like the feeling you have after you wake from a bad dream.
I was petrified from the fear of what I had become. They blamed the petrifaction on the fear. At least that was what they said but I never trusted them. Never trust your enemy.
My black silky hair probably hung in shreds from the years of isolation. My tan skin will now be pale and lifeless from the years without a glimpse of sunlight. My bright blue eyes glazed over and dull from the sights that I have seen, and my heart empty and cold from the things that I have felt. The ones that have now left me hopeless and petrified. The once joyful and happy Clare is but an empty shell filled with hate and despair. The only thing left of the old sweet Clare is determination. The need that keeps me going, but my goals have changed and now all that I desire is true hope. The kind of unwavering hope that leads great leaders to victory. But my victory will be cold and unforgiving, for what those demons have done to me shall be their undoing.
As I read it over I realized I was dark but realizing that your entire race is dead is scaring.
YOU ARE READING
Evolved
科幻"She's coming! She's coming!" Those were the dying words of Elanore the great prophet who foretold the Great War that would end all of mankind for good. The humans had gotten too powerful, and were on the verge of creating a super genetically engin...
