The horror.
My life has been a nonstop destruction of my mentality. Every view of detonation of every universe that had been affected by my friends and I. It was nonstop. It electrified my brain and body, frying every cell as I relive each ungrateful memory I've seen, experienced, and heard of. I am tired. Tired of the flashing lights. The red. The horrible endings that each person gets because it was their fate. It made my blood gurgle and twists.
A once naive boy I knew said that fate was the only thing kept people together. And how it strung each person to each other. I would always go back to that day, and relive that moment of serene greatness. But now. Now is different, I go back to that memory, not to relive those feelings, but to show myself how sensitive I was. How I trusted a little puny kids with my thoughts and feelings. How I trusted myself to keep going back to that time of bliss. Every memory of that past only gave me a regret and hatred that only led me to ask myself, 'how did I get here', 'why did fate put me to this situation'. It was disgusting. I now find myself in an orb of light. Being locked in a cage as I see every occurrence, every murder, every war. Just everything. Knowing that I cannot stop the rampage. Knowing I cannot do anything to save them. It breaks me. I know there is a person outside my cage of memories, laughing at my pain. My tormenter. My jailer. Who I despise, but cannot hurt with how I am busy trying not to grieve and cry my heart out.
The only thing I get out from this experience is the knowledge that I can tell to that boy, to my past self that fate is also destructive. That I shouldn't say that fate was the only thing that kept people together, or how it would pull each person to each other. Although what I said was not true, it was not wrong either.
I wish I could go to that naive boy, that kid that will grow up to be the person who I am that everything is imperfect. Like friendships. Friends will come and go, you will always have arguments and great conversations. It's imperfect. Just like fate.
As I sit in the middle of the room of memories. Memories that I don't want to relive. Ever. I cannot control the madness and sorrow that grows in me. I can only see the dead bodies that pile on top of each other. Each scar, each person killing one another, and each friend that I lose along the way.
It brings me to tears.
I cannot live with myself anymore. To think they were innocent, to think I trusted them. To think I am not able to do anything. It only hurts my poor soul more.
What did I do to deserve this?
Why was this my fate?
I hate them.
Condifiction POV-
"Go faster you idiot!" I spurt out to Bizly.
We flew across the trees, looking ahead only to see a destroyed city in the desert. We had gotten to a obsidian place underground where Jschlatt had told us Charlie was held. Though when we had gotten underground, no one was there. For hours, we had tried to get any sign of Charlie or of a person here. Only until we heard the ground rumble. And that when we knew something had happened on land. So curiosity got the better of us.
"I'm fucking trying! You cannot rush me!" He yells back as he struggles behind me. I look at him, seeing vines and branches stuck on him. I would laugh at him, but I knew with the situation we were in, laughing would only slow us down.
YOU ARE READING
•A Turn Of Events•
AdventureAs the man of slime go through the path of adventure, there are always dark paths and regrets that follows him through his long life. He makes a deal with himself so he won't remember the past regrets. But, every time he remembers, he begins to be h...
