NeverSayDie
She knew that the time was scarce. The world was fading. The days had gone by so quickly, but the time has come. She felt the tube being removed, and the airstream was cut. Everything went black. And it was over, just like that.
Her writing wasn't just hers. It was a combination of things she had picked up throughout her journey. Lengthy paragraphs embellished with bits and pieces of the memories and emotions and stories she had gathered from her surroundings. Her writing was filled with parts of not only her, but the world.
Past or present. Old or new. Friends or enemies.Peace or chaos. Heaven or Hell. Day or night. Love or hate. Life or death. Nothing or everything. We are the past of the future.
The past means everything and nothing. I hate looking back to a time of the past in my life, as nothing significant has happened. I'd much rather learn about the past of the past. I want to learn about dinosoaurs and colonial times.
I was late. He was going to absolutely kill me. He'd bring me back, he'd hurt me. He wouldn't let anyone hear my screams. I was going to die. And I was going to die for being only five minutes late. It was only because I was doing my makeup how he liked it. If I didn't, I would have been hit harder for going out in public like an abomination.
The employees were tired, oh so tired. Day after day was spent in their cubicle during nine to five shifts. They wanted out of this corporation, they wanted that escape they had dreamed about. Everyone needs an escape. These employees turned into mindless zombies.
Themselves. Nothing more nothing less. Simple yet so complex. A group, different as can be, but the same. Themselves. Nothing more could be said. Themselves.
writing since 2012 · 7 entries · 6 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Mikayla showed up.
1longest streak
6days written
0.3entries / week
the words Mikayla reaches for
pastthemselvesemployeestiredfiveescapelatediehatelearnwritinglesssimplecomplexgroupdifferent