"What are you talking about? Whose story this is!? That is bullshit! This is my life, this is my story and I will live it how I want!" I snapped. I could see my flames exploding out of me in frustration. The colors a complete contrast to the darkness.
"This is not your story," hissed the first voice. "And those are not your men."
I tilted my head back and burst out into laughter. But it was not the lighthearted kind. No, this was the laughter of someone that was pushed too far. The kind of laughter that had you locked up in a nice white room with a jacket that allows you to constantly hug yourself.
"Did you think that you were the only one to come back to the beginning?" asked the third voice. Where once I relished her gentleness, now it only served as nails on a chalkboard.
