Who wants to be the first to see the first official preface of Trafalgar? I've gotten good feedback from my teachers, they believe that it could already be published with the status it is at already-this plot bunny has been modified for YEARS so here's the draft. Its short-and a preface.
{Further bloodshed}
There was nothing more to
live for. If living happened to be deluding a nightmare, so many
times that it was reality, or something close to it. If living
happened to be spending few moments in sharpened clarity, and then
clouded epilogues several times-it was a small sacrifice. My
Masochistic intent that, death will be delivered smoothly,
reasonably. By hands that I would hold and then long, forget their
comforting pressure. That those nights, staring into the kind wise
face that promised me my happy ending, only to compromise this
repeated pain of my multiple deaths as the price. It was sick. It was
masochistic. It was true. That is why the similar symptoms of death
of mortality slipping away were in strict steps. That is why this
situation was no different from any other. Would I fade away with a
show?
"Trash." The unhelpful human muttered sullenly,
skidding the foul metallic taste of dirt and sand into my eyes and
throat. Impulses of pain began to contract into nothingness. I was
brutally aware of the fact that my heart stopped beating, but the
panic would quicken the process more if I acknowledged that. My ears
giving out as the car's engine revved deafeningly, my lungs gasped
out in surprise, they caved. The wires in my brain tangled, trying to
make sense of each other. The vein in my forehead continuously bled
where the kick intended to hit. The sick crimson liquid bordered over
my gravel spotted vision that darkened. I escaped to the rendezvous
point of this mind-temporarily mine. The unawakened part of the
stranger's head was already in a blind enough panic to go anywhere
where it suggested safety. It was not heaven. It was not hell. It was
not death itself. That place happened to be Trafalgar.
I let the
pour soul delude, it had not faced the pain of its own death.
Therefore, the only place where the mind was required to, a paradise
lost.
The last of my thoughts were the feelings of any life
departing the earth, regret, sadness, anger, and acceptance. Vaguely
wishing that he was proud, this was the fairytale ending for whomever
body I resided. I would eventually end up seething in an office, hell
breaking loose.
It was so common-and a bother for everybody else. Yes, another suicidal teenager standing under the downpour of rain, the cause of the constant honking of blaring car horns and the current traffic jam. If anything, I should be standing there with her, I was evicted with no current job. Just the soaked running shoes that froze my feet with drenched socks. The rain already going through my head. I was the only one on the crosswalk-what luck. Nobody to speak to about this botherance on the street. I was not masochistic so I might as well relieve them. Was she an idiot? 5 foot 4, clothes transparent beyond belief because of the rain, and I was no sick pervert either. The white walking man ticked endlessly for the last possible time. I wasted no time in crossing this time. Roughly taking the shoulder of the long ravenous haired girl, her head downcast, wet locks covering her eyes and face. For a moment I did not move. Trying to see if I could unravel the mystery between her decisions to block the road and then wondering if we both got our wishes. The one driver lost patience with our hesitation and crawled too quickly trying to scare us-the attempt horribly failed as that last moment she looked at me. A vivid sight before us both lost our lives.
"How do you like your
eggs?"
"Scrambled."
That is the exclusive
debit of Trafalgar; I hope that was an enjoyment of your
time!
++Yuki++