Have you ever wondered, what is the purpose of life? Why were we borne into the world, how were we created?
How did we come into existence, millions of years ago, just to live measly amount of years, and eventually fade away, like whatever we have ever done for the short amount of years, just -------gone.
We are all born, vulnerable, defenseless, blank slates, and we spend our entire life trying to find a sense- a sense of purpose.
But what happens, if one is dyed in deep, dark, ugly colors of the world? How do they go on from there, when they are already filled to the brim with inerasable scars?
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Goosebumps laced my skin. I shivered. The thin gown I was wearing was barely enough to cover my skin, lest keep me warm.
The darkness engulfed me, silence all around.
My voice hoarse, I croak :" Father?"
"..."
Only my voice can be heard resonating back to me. My throat dry, I licked my lips. My legs and back were sore and cramped from being cornered in the tiny chest. Just by lifting one hand, I could feel all six sides of my enclosed prison.
My stomach growled ferociously, but I gave up on shouting louder. It wasn't like he would care anyways. He, who thought of me as a disgrace. He, who treated me like I was the last thing he ever wanted to see. He, who despised the way I looked, exactly like my late mother.
In the never-ending dark, I sighed softly, trying to get comfortable. It seemed like darkness was my only and my best friend. The only thing that ever lasted long enough.
Ｄｒｉｐ． Ｄｒｉｐ． Ｄｒｉｐ．
Tiny water droplets suddenly plinked softly on my head. I looked up, or at least what I thought was up, and felt around. The tiny barricaded wooden box I was in was becoming wet.
Ｄｒｉｐ． ���ｒｉｐ． Ｄｒｉｐ． Ｄｒｉｐ． Ｄｒｉｐ．
Faster and faster came the water droplets, and slowly the inescapable cage I was in slowly started to fill up.
The water gushed out into the wooden chest, water already filled up to my knees. I started screaming.
" FATHER! HELP ME! PLEA-" I choked on my words and continued pleading for him to come.
Eventually, I knew. No matter how much I cried for his helped, no matter how much I tried, he would not hear me. He was probably drunk somewhere in the castle or out relieving himself from the stress of having a child like I.
I let out a blood curling scream, A plea, A cry for help. The desperation taking over, my cries for help could no longer be differentiated from one of a beast's.
In a desperate final attempt after my voice no longer came out, and the ever-flowing waterfall reached my chin, I banged the sides of the old box, wishing that the gods above would show mercy to me, that a miracle would happen.
I would be saved.
I will survive.
I will not die.
There was nothing in the world that could stop me from doing so.
...
It responded in kind.
My next breath and any one after that, all that went in, was water.
With the precious bubbles of air slowly seeping out from my mouth, I closed my eyes and tried to think of those precious happy memories of mine- there was close to none. The only one thing I could think of that possibly sparked the emotion of happiness was the fading image of my long-deceased mother.
The next couple of seconds slowly drained all life out of the girl ,the girl who had been questioning her existence every single day, the girl who just wanted to once again feel that faint but familiar warmth once more, the lone soul who just wanted to know, for what reason - why? The cracked, broken girl who wanted to know what was her purpose, why she was borne into cruel reality.
Even if I wasn't born, there would have been nothing in this world that would have been differen-
The last thread of her consciousness broke.
The girl lifelessly sank down to the bottom of the box with a thud.
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The end?
(Tbc) ❤️