There was a battle. There was screaming. There were my hands flying to my weapon, only to find it missing, scattered somewhere with the blood and broken human remains all over the battlefield.
After that, there was silence.
The world goes on even after you’ve encountered some sort of terrible fate. This is something you’ll learn the hard way because it won’t really make sense to you until you’re staring out the car window at all of the cars stopped to show respect to human life-- the human life snatched away in a split second, leaving you to mourn it.
Another thing I learned was how sometimes it feels worse to be alive and watch these things going on than to die. When I feel this way, I try to remember the fact that no one knows what death truly feels like other than those who can’t tell us about it. In the times I feel especially down, I imagine death being even harder than life.
Death must be feeling trapped. It can’t be anything other than what I experience every day-- stuck to watch the world around you, having no say in the things happening.
If you don’t know what I’m talking about, at least take one thing away from this. Nothing is ever as it seems. The ground you walk on could have once upheld the footsteps of someone necessary to make the world as it is now. The woman you met at the bank could be hiding behind that smile a broken life.
Or you could be placing your coffee cup on a wizard’s face every morning.
(this was a writing prompt that i wrote for. i can't say if there will be more of it or not.)
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Christy ~ currently trying to figure out what’s wrong with me