[A/N: this is my first fanfic, so be nice!]
A LIFE UNCOMMON
My name is Rachel.
And I am living in a world that will soon cease to exist.
I know that we are losing. That with each battle we fight, we slip a little farther behind.
They all feel it. I can see it in the way Jake walks. In the way that Cassie seems to study
everything, as if she is looking at it for the last time. I see it in Marco's eyes. I hear
the quiet desperation in every word he speaks.
And Tobias . . .
Tobias is not as strong as I'd like to hope. He is stubborn as hell, but even he can't deny
that we are going down. Sinking into darkness. I can't exactly read hawk expressions, but I
know him. He is slowly losing hope, but he rarely shows it.
As for me, I can't deny that we are going down. I am hoping that we will resurface, that
we will triumph, but every day that hope becomes more unlikely. It is tempting to just end
myself right here, right now, but I go on. Why? I honestly don't know. It seems like I lose
either way. If I choose not to fight, to give up, the human race is most likely doomed. But
if I choose to go on, to fight, I will be killed in a battle or infested. It is better to be
dead than be a controller, but I am not sure I would be brave enough to take my own life before
being infested. There is still hope if you are alive, right? But if I live as a controller, I
am a deadly, dangerous creature.
I certainly live an interesting life. No teenager should have to make the choices I've made.
I've tried to tell myself that I wouldn't pity myself, but my life pretty much sucks.
I do get a thrill out of the battles, though. The rush of adrenaline is amazing. I don't
need drugs. I get high off of my own life.
But there is a type of withdrawl. After the battles, when my best friend looks at me with
fear in her eyes, fear of me, I don't feel so great. When the nightmares come, when I wake up
screaming and shaking and sweaty, I feel downright awful. No matter what you get high off of,
there's always a downside.
But I keep killing. I keep fighting. I let the rush of fear envelope me, and I use it to
accomplish amazing things. Some of those "amazing things" are good, but some of them are bad.
Like David. Threatening him, trapping him. It had to be done, but I hate to think about it.
I'm not as . . . crazy as I used to be, but I know that, if this ever ends in favor of us, I will
need to see a psychiatrist. But I doubt I will live long enough to get help, though.
Well, what can I say? I live a life uncommon.
[A/N: Love it? Hate it? Should I burn it or frame it? E-mail me @ LiLHotie49@yahoo.com and tell
me. Constructive criticism is accepted with open arms]