tell me about your world.
in some twisted sort of way, she’s reminded that death has no hold on her. the world went on and on, going and going. she came just as she went. Unlike others, whose footprints will disappear, hers were indented on the ground. there hasn’t been a place here that she hasn’t walked through. there hasn’t been a place that didn’t either bring her joy or pain or maybe it was a mixture of both, only romanticized by the idea that her joy brought pain to the world. or had it been the other way around?because no matter what anyone ever told, tells, or will tell her, she’s an evil little thing. marked off by the dark kings that she did not have to die, and in exchange for that unfair taking of her life, she would take the lives of others. in exchange for an eternity she never asked for, she would do unspeakable cruelties that made her choke on her own tears to gods that stopped pitying her. if the world wasn’t black and white, it was painted red because her hands left a mark on this earth.the world wasn’t as beautiful as it was. the world wasn’t full of vibrant and dull colors. the stars didn’t sing songs to her to help her sleep. everything mocked her, called her a joke for being the woman that she was. they never took into regard of the unfair justice that was placed upon her shoulders and weighed down the heart that was taken from her. and so she grew angry and cold. but the idea of it all terrified her. it made the dust coat her lungs as she exhaled and inhaled into some impregnable fortress. it made her still heart harden and then soften into a forgiving soul even though that was taken from her too. she came to realize that the world was just going on as it was, and if she let it be, it would let her be as well. and so she stopped being angry and cold.
and it helped for a while. it made the colors in the world come back. her eyes saw clearer, but the colors were not as she remembered. but she’d been blind for so long, how can she remember something she could hardly imagine in her head anymore? it was hard to feel like anything for a long time. she felt the strings of an abyss carry her weight through the world. her footsteps deepened more, engraved on the roads she walked. Did you ever walk through the world and see colors muted because you refused to see the good in it all? and she couldn’t just let the world be anymore because unknowingly, it continued to sap whatever life she had in her out of her. so the world became black and white again, stained red by the first time she felt her life draining away from her.“It hurt, that pain.” she figured it was some sort of punishment for being weak. for not seeing the yellows in a field of sunflowers. for not seeing the blue in the sky’s comfort in her sorrows. but while she laid in that hut on the ground with her blood pooling around her, dried by the heat that weaved into the small space, she felt it. it was an inescapable feeling, one that made her toes curl. one that made her feel as though perhaps if she woke up from this, it would all be just a dream. That morning, she woke up in a fright. she pressed the palm of her hand onto the skin over her heart. and in the span of three minutes, she knew her dream would never come true. waves crashed over her, drowned her, and she realized that she’d been crying with a boy fretting over her to stop crying. then somewhere along the way, after time ticked and she remained unchanged by the world, everything just became okay. maybe the pain of it all became her world. the ugly dressed up and called myths to make people believe that fairy tales were just that. but fairy tales lived beneath her skin, and she called them nightmares. but nightmares, if you see them long enough, stop being nightmares. she once thought her dream was crushed, and if you asked her, she would tell you that of all the dreams she’s had, only one came true.
and that took the form of the world colored not in red, but the colors of their everything.
