☆ WATTPAD FEATURED & WATTYS 2022 SHORTLISTED ☆
[ 𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙥𝙤𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙮𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙘 𝙛𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙮 𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡 ]
❝ You are a beginning. ❞
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Sharp and opinionated Purple is one of the last residents of what's left of...
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DEATH HAD ALWAYS been a relative concept to me.
I had never experienced the loss of someone I knew ( though being surrounded by the same people forever does grow to be tiresome ). I had only ever witnessed death —and curiously, always in a gruesome way.
It had always been a beast or animal; its life cut short for whatever selfish reason.
For many, death was a sweet release to be looked forward to at the end of a tediously long life. Others sought to avoid it for however long they could endure.
But no one truly escapes death —in one form or another, everything decays and fades eventually: their dreams, morale, kind nature or desire.
Even one's will to go on.
Immortality was simply a gilded cage; made comfortable by one's own false sense of security.
To this day, I had not lived very long —but it felt enough. Three centuries meant nothing to those who had been made at the dawn of a world.
And I was sure that I was dying now.
It was not violent. It was a gentle lull. Yet I raged —I thrashed and twisted and clawed against the darkness, unwilling to be dragged under.
I was not afraid of death.
This was just not the way in which I wanted to go.
The blackness was like thick ink; staining my skin and clinging to my body until I became a part of it —as though it were trying to consume. The only visible light was emitting from my dusted freckles, shining defiantly. Everything else was stifled.
