Snippet: Deaden my worth
There is a certain pleasure in revisiting stories after a few months of inactivity.
For one, you see more clearly what exactly is wrong with them, allowing for a good rewrite.
For two, you get to rediscover your own story and enjoy all the parts that were good the first time around.
And three, you get the satisfaction of finishing the Thing if, like me, you tended to flitter about a lot and, life aiding, you evolved towards needing to complete all the WIPs you left in your AuDHD-ish wake.
(this story was originally called Assault, but then it evolved. And its core changed. Thus, its name followed suit)
---
"You know the truth," Aneskia's lookalike said, unfazed. "It belongs to your veins now. There is no point in fighting what you know to be foreordained. Lay your head and sleep now—"
"No…"
"—for there is nothing more that a child such as you ought to do. The advent of silence has begun. Do you not yearn for peace? Do you not yearn for your suffering to end?"
Aneskia fought back her tears. She hesitated before responding, a quiet "no" that her lookalike dismissed with ease.
"It is life that is wrong," the lookalike stated. "It is life that brings misery and sorrow to the world, for it is in life that the soul accrues undeserved pain. You who have lost all whom you loved, do you not agree? Had none of you lived, would you not know peace?"
