imapython
Unkempt hair fell over his eyes in curled knots, its dark brown colouring almost blacking out his pupils behind it. He knew what he had to do.
He just didn't want to.
The parachute refused to unleash itself. I pulled relentlessly at the chord, willing it to grace me to safety. With the ground quickly approaching, I knew I was running out of time.
I'd thought about killing myself. Hell, I'd tried it a few times.
But this? This was wrong. I didn't want to be remembered like this.
My brain became frantic. Ben's face came to me, as did Colin and Bobby's.
What would they do? How would they react?
I didn't want to find out.
The ground was getting closer.
I mustered all the strength and adrenaline I had left and tugged at the chord. There was a deafening crashing sound.
My vision gave out.
There are many stories in this world, too many to be told and too many to hear. There are stories of the past, the present, and the future. Stories of heroes and dragons, of love and lust, of monsters, daemons, and angels.
However, there is one story that has never been told.
Should it remain that way?
It was hardcore trench warfare now: no rules, no one to regulate you or what you did.
It was all free. The fighting, the unplanned attacks, the weapons.
It was all open now.
The reality was fabricated; not real. It didn't even look real, everything was plastic, fake, unmoving and emotionless. It was dull. We wanted out.
So out we went.
"It's the truth," she whispered. "I swear."
I stared into her eyes, not wanting to believe her. I SO didn't want to believe her. But... Something was different than before. There was a glint in her eye, a glimmer of honesty.
I grabbed her hand and smiled. "C'mon," I said. "We've got some saving to do."
The signal changed from red to green, and he gently pushed down on the pedal. About halfway through the intersection, he noticed two lights heading towards him coming from the left. There was a honk, then a crash, then darkness.
The gown was embellished with thousands of tiny jewels; it was something only royalty would've worn. I put it back down onto the ash covered ground, "seems like such a waste..." I think to myself as I look out over the now charcoal-black valley.
She flailed in the water, helpless, slowly giving in to its freezing but welcoming arms.
She was going to drown, she was going to drown and there was no one here to save her.
After everything she's been through, she was going to DROWN to death; no getting shot, hung, burned at the stake, buried alive, dying of hunger, no. She would drown, and there was not a thing to be done.
It wasn't real.
It couldn't be.
Even if it was, what would you expect me to say?
I was shocked, dumbfounded, taken aback.
It couldn't be.
It was impossible.
It just couldn't be.
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