Everytime I close my eyes, I only remember how they left a scar in my heart, and perhaps, I did the same to them.
Some irredeemable words were spoken, some undoable actions undertaken, and everything was not the same again.
Memories should make people warm but I only feel cold when I remember mine. To me...it was something I consider hell.
I made a promise not to hurt myself, but I welcome and await death like it was my heaven.
If possible I'd like to live a hermit life in a faraway forest. I don't want to see the faces of anyone in this world. Not the friends of this body. Not the family of this body. No one.
Are we even considered acquaintances? Do we even know each other?
I don't think so. We aren't family nor friends. They don't even know what makes me angry, sad, happy, or anything. And I am just the same as them.
We are just strangers.
Fresh apple rots when placed with other rotting apples, but in this world, which one is even the fresh apple and which one is the rotting one?
Can people even tell?
I guess not...since we're rotten and fresh at the same time.
We can unlearn and learn things, but we hold on to those things like it was part of our being.
It would never be easy to let go of something that belongs to us unless...
We never felt attached to it to begin with.
Who is right and wrong?
At this point, where I already lost important things; did all those sins; and received the same back; does understanding things even matter now?
No. Those things no longer concern me.
If the world wanted me to be bad; if being the villain is my role in this damn forsaken world; then so be it.
I'll play with them; just like how they played me.
Let's see who will have the last laugh.
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I BECAME THE VILLAIN OF A NOVEL | BOOK I
AdventureWhen I woke up this morning, I found myself in a strange room, unfamiliar bed, strangers I've never met, and a body that wasn't mine. The strangers wore a maid outfit, and these people were calling me by the name Nasrin Urduja. This name reminded m...
