I. thirty years

1.3K 73 7
                                    

sunshine and cyanide
chapter one.

(trigger warning: passive suicide ideation)

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

(trigger warning: passive suicide ideation)

James Camden didn't believe in an afterlife.

For someone who was born a cursed child, she knew it was strange not to. In a world where not only curses, but also the existence of great gods, parallel worlds and extraterrestrial life were proven to exist — as every of those has threatened the safety of earth and its inhabitants before — James didn't believe there was much room left. For heaven or hell...or anything in between.

The idea of nothingness after death was more comforting to her than the other possibility was. The existence of an afterlife made human life redundant. Insignificant. And life was anything but.

But James couldn't help but think that a life after death would be a cruel joke. Tragic irony even. A meaningless attempt at a joke that only the audience understands the punchline of.

Death and James were old acquaintances.

As someone who spent most of their time alive trying to ignore the clamp grip death had on her throat, always persistent, always imminent, the afterlife was nothing but a taunt.

Why bother running the race if the road doesn't stop once you reach the finish line?

James had a rule. It was a simple rule. And it was her only one. Don't waste your time thinking about dying. It's inevitable. Like breathing. You don't think about breathing so don't think about dying.

But as most people might know. Once you start thinking about breathing, you can't just stop. Not just that. Breathing turns into a task rather than a reflex, an action you seemed to initiate yourself instead of your body managing it on its own.

Most days James followed her rule. Don't think about death. Some days she couldn't.

Some days the heaviness of her bones, the fragility of her skin and the futile attempt of her heart to filter the poison from her blood were hard to ignore. And when the ever-looming presence of death waved its red flag, a taunting smile on its face, the flag felt more than a signpost.

Those were the days she couldn't dance.

And James loved dancing over everything. When she danced she could ignore the buzzing under her skin for a little while and forget about everything that concerned her.

That's why she went professional, too. So she could spend every passing minute doing what she loved. Which was a necessary step to take when your life was so uncertain and destined to be cut short at any moment.

sunshine and cyanide | moon knightWhere stories live. Discover now