The Untitled

(An excerpt/start to my book)

She shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t be standing here on this open plain of grass. She shouldn’t be feeling the breeze through her hair and hearing the birds gossiping about her. Where am I? This isn’t earth. But this isn’t any place she has ever heard of. She wanted darkness. She wanted an end. Why does the human soul have to cry so loud just to be heard? “Why must the air keep tormenting my soul? Why must it pass through my lungs again and again?” Her own voice scared her now. She loathes the air. The crisp feeling sliding down her throat makes her cough as if her body is rejecting the life it wants to give her.

How does one reject life? Has it really come down to this illusion? Slipping into the shadows seemed to come so easy, but the loneliness has seeped into her soul. Suddenly she hated being alone. Her feet picked up the pace. She ran across the open field, crushing everything in her path, desperate to find anyone else sobbing here. Running towards anything but herself. The destruction left in her wake was rendered almost irreparable. She damaged the land and support she used as a crutch. All her comfort was destroyed by her own hands, limbs and branches snapped off as if they were made of clouds. This is her land of destruction. Oh, how could someone ruin their soul in such a slow painful way? How many times do you have to be hurt before you become your own enemy? Is she the tree? Did she just destroy herself?

“It must be the air,” she told herself while flicking a strange bug off her arm, “I fucking hate this air.”


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