CW FOR DEATH Everyone’s the same here. It scares me. Why is everyone the same? Same clothes, same faces, same bodies, and it’s all him. I wake up, drenched in sweat, in my attic bedroom. This is the seventh nightmare I’ve had about him since he died. My alarm clock goes off and I slam it with my hand, eventually unplugging it to shut it up. While being in the forest is therapeutic, and it has been forever- I was born here, after all, the effect slows after time. The days slow down. You begin to forget after having the same routine every day. I started a new school, after being homeschooled since I was a child. A nice school too, Ms. Springbeam’s School For Gifteds. ‘Gifted’ people are the smartest people in our society. A lot of them are pretentious, believing they’re gods. They’re not, they’re just normal people. I get dressed in the morning, then sew until 6, when I leave for school. I pass the graveyard he’s buried in and wave to the flower they grew. They grow flowers for everybody who dies, the first flower was the first death. Flowers are a symbol of death. School is terrible as usual- bullies, boring classes, and most of all, taunting. Endless taunting. I don’t know why they target me. I suppose because it’s the first time a Gifted has had a family member die. Gifteds don’t have deaths in the family. When I get home, the first thing I do is go home and cry. I place my head between my knees and think if the other students ever have afternoons like these.
fantasy elf stories my beloved this is a STORY, if you are too stupid to understand :)
