I’ve stepped out my comfort zone, and decided to write something slightly different. I do enjoy my blog, articles, and thoughts however I have the biggest passion for fiction (I’m secretly a romance lover, not even sorry) I tend to write lots of drama related stories. I do however love horror, thrillers and si-fi but have never attempted in writing anything – but here is a go..
Being told you have exactly 5 days left on this “precious” planet would overwhelm and terrify the majority of human beings. It has been doing for the past 1000 years however I feel differently towards the matter. It only fascinates me that my life is coming towards its end and I have seconds ticking by like a substitute for a countdown. We don’t determine when our end falls upon us; we never have and never will. I have realized that really, that just makes us the most powerless race of all.
It’s the year 5020 and the human race is slowly but surely dying out, or being killed off. I don’t actually see the difference. Ravens a mystical and overpowering species, began taking over back in 4020 when their planet was supposedly destroyed. Now their power in fact is forever growing. The species driven by the great leader Amaranth thought he would just give humans the boot and a villain being a villain had to proceed in the most heart wrenching, painful way humanly possible (No pun intended).
They’re a rare species. Humans in fact, a long time ago, debated if they even existed. It was all just a tremendous theory that soon changed. It’s rather ironic really because visually they are extremely similar however they hold extremes amount of beauty and I don’t think anyone ever expected that- hence the hatred. We are the jealous race after all. Every single one of them is created and groomed to entire perfection, like clones, holding not on single fault. The females all completed with long, toned legs and beaming smile to project their gleaming pearly whites, and the male muscles bulging from their ever so tight-shirts and not a single hair on their head appearing to be out of place. They all make it seem so effortless. I sometimes wonder how boring their lives must seem, a clone of each other holding everything but individuality. That’s why I finally understand the importance of the ever so cliché saying – “Be who you are everyone else is already taken”.
Either way, I guess they can do whatever they like, at least I’ve always understood that. Everyone human left drones on about how we should attempt in fighting back, when will they realise we are never going to be as strong as them? The fact we still think we have any chance left just make us seem brainless. They want our planet they’re taking it, we die, get over it. So what! They’ll remove a whole species in the process in getting what they want. Whatever could be wrong with that? Pretty courageous in my opinion, dear god help me if my mum heard me repeat that. I do believe though they will always have something that us human don’t hold; the loyalty to each other.
I’m one of the lucky few still “having the privilege,” my mum would say to be living. She is in some sense forcing me to enjoy every breath I have left to experience. I don’t actually feel alive though, I feel like a prisoner in my own home and I’d rather be dead.
When I was younger I appeared to be your average, normal little girl. With the long, blonde, thick braid sculpted down my spine and my huge, brown, heart-warming eyes melting people at the core. I was always happy. In fact everyone in my family was always happy; I used to see my parents as that perfect couple and I used to pray that one day I could manage to feel a love like theirs. We were a perfect family – the family people would envy. These dreams were only due to having no knowledge in what live was really like. I can’t blame my mum for keeping all the darkness hidden away from me and my older brother Blake, she wanted us to have a childhood at least, and I have always understood that. She never held one herself, her parents both died when she was only 2 years old; even know I can still see the sadness eating away at her. It has never come to be beneficial though, the secrets, as the death of Blake was my first encounter and it shot me down like a tonne of bricks.
Blake had always been my best friend as well as my brother for as long as I could remember. The times we would spend together are engraved in my memory and it’s the only thing left inside of me which holds any emotion or feeling at all. Lately I focus on just blocking it out completely.
I only held that life changing piece of formal paper in my hand two days ago, words ever so peacefully floating around on the white sheet in front of me “Polly Whitfield you have now been selected- 18th November 5019- Is to be the date of your end,” I like how original they are in highlighting my date in bold; like I was going to forget. My beautiful, strong mother was beside me filling with vulnerability and despair as she knew the meaning behind my silence. In that moment, I can admit, anxieties flew around my mind but not for me; for her. We had lost dad 2 years ago on the 4th February, it quite literally nearly killed her, I was all she had left and now I was to be gone too. I bet that’s the logic of The Ravens – “Kill off the whole family and leave the last to fall into a depression of sorrow and guilt”.
Other than my mother, the letter carefully scripted didn’t seem to faze me. I’d like to inform the “Great Amaranth” of this before they determine the proceedings of my death. I want him to wallow on the fact his tactics have finally failed and maybe then he’d give me a death to remember. Not like old Mr. Fulton’s death, not to be disrespectful but they just burned him in sulphuric acid, bit boring don’t you think?
I want a phenomenal death. That date isn’t just granted on me for nothing. I actually feel rather special; I know the date of my own death and I’m not even dead yet.
It could or couldn’t go somewhere but we shall soon see, and obviously there shall be some complicated, romance buried in there, why not! Also, I have fallen in love with Polly already, she is very much like myself as a character. I hope you become to love her too.
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Ps. You may or may not know but I am of course a reader – I’d love to know some of you fellow reader’s favorite novels, books, and authors. Let me know!