What's my grab sentence, one that would get a reader interested and engaged? A story will never be read if it isn't good.
So where would you begin? Begin a story that has already happened, but been never told, written or seen. Well that last one might be a lie… Have you witnessed my story? Seen the tales I left behind and the life I lived.
Would you consider this the beginning or rather the end?
Who am I? That's a way! I'll tell you a bit about me, it'll be interesting I promise. Just stay and see if you want to see the whole thing. Please only for this start!
People often say that a stories start must come in third person and set a sence for its beginning. But that's not how mine began, but for you it will.
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Today's day no different from others, a cloud filled sky, and a sun obscured yet it still cast upon the life of its land. She was also there, a small speck on a grand scale, but she experienced a very different life from the rest.
Instead of a cloud filled sky, she received a black ceiling, the only sun to her was a flickering light, dimly lit and shone only for her to only see shadows. The irony. What she saw was nothing, and the only irony she felt was the shackles that chained her impossibly thin body — malnourished wrists and ankles.
Sheltered from the world, but held captive in a prison. Her story began the same way she thought it would end, to her the only thing she knew was that you can never escape from what you're born into.
Years passed, unbeknownst to her, she had always lived in the dark and never seen the beauty the world had to offer, the only she was given was a smack, kick, hit, and shove; she would always return a yelp, scream and cry.
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She was young she didn't such treatment, only the ripe age of 6; however she had already gone 'bad'.
A tool to be used, can you imagine what gone on in the mind of someone so young?
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"Today's the day you fucking whore, we should've disposed of trash like you a long time ago. As a celebration of your 'release', I've decided to give you a little gift." The man looked at the now 16 year old girl, his expression one of pure hatred. He gave her the 'gift', as he spat in her blindfolded face. An addition to many, her face and entire body had long been riddled with countless bruises and breaks.
"Come on you dirty scum!" He dragged the girl by the hair, leaving her 'home' and towards the lit room at the end of the hallway. She let out no scream or cry.
He opened the door and what lay behind was at room full of people, who all had no good intentions. However the men did not simply stand there, in the middle of the packed room was a singular chair.
He continued dragging her until he reached the chair, pulling with all his strength he lifted the girl until her head was level with his. He slammed her into the chair. No sound escaped her mouth even though what she had endured would be classified as inhumane torture.
"Now sit down you dirty wretch, today's the day we get to dispose of trash like you!" He said with a snarky tone in his voice. Wasting no time, he pulled down a helmet that was attached to the ceiling by three coloured wires.
Another man spoke,
"Do you have any last words. Hahaha why would you, you can barely understand us!"
As if creating a chain reaction, the other men began to chime in.
"Die die die!! Die die die!"
"Go to hell you stupid bitch!"
"These are your consequences!"
"You dirty dirty pig!"
The voices kept on intensifying until they reached their peak volume. At the same time the man who had dragged her into the room walked towards the wall adjacent to the chair. In the wall there was a lever, he placed his hand on it and turned to look at the girl, a wide and cruel smile forming on his face.
She just sat there, no thoughts passed through her mind. Having always being held in captivity, she had no sense of this world, for she had never seen it nor did she have a high degree of understanding of the spoken language.
The man pulled the lever and watched its result. The current charged through the wires, carrying an enormous amount of voltage towards the helmet. Reaching the metal, it charged and electrified, sending a deadly amount of current into the girls body.
Only now did she react, however unusually she didn't scream, she just sat there as tears uncontrollably streamed down her bruised and battered face. The last she heard was the shouts of and insults of the men who irrationally hated her.
Charred, her body drooped into the chair, the only expression left on her face was one of content and release.
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They never explained why they detested me so much, yet no amount explaining can rationalise the pain and torment they've inflicted upon other people.
If that was the end, would you say it was satisfactory? Did I get a happy ending and did the people who hurt me face justice for the countless atrocities they've committed? No…
The world was created not on a scale of balance, rather one of cruelty, where only those who survive survive.
That day, I did not.
However I must admit that what I told you was the entire truth. If so would it be a good story?
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Today's day did not differ from the others, clouds spanned endlessly, painting the sky murky grey, a sun so obscured yet it still cast its lustre upon the life of its land.
The people went by their day, some fought for battle that would never have a victor, while some died due to the unfairness of this harsh land — frozen, hungry, exploitation, murder.
In a certain place lived a young girl, her age did not reflect her stature.
Instead of a cloud filled sky, she always received nothing but a black ceiling, the only sun to her was a flickering light that hung from the ceiling, dimly lit and shone only for her to only see shadows. The irony. What she saw was nothing, and the only irony she felt was the shackles that chained her impossibly thin body — malnourished wrists and ankles.
Forever sheltered from the world, but held captive in a prison never to escape. Her story began the same way she knew it would end, to her the only thing she knew was definite was that you can never ever escape from what you're born into.
Time never stopped, and to her was always the count that never seemed to stop.
Years passed, unbeknownst to her, always living in the dark and having never seen the beauty the world had to offer, the only she was given was a smack, kick, hit, and shove; she would always return a yelp, scream and cry.
On any day she endured pain.
Year after year, she looked at her sky and always wondered why, why can't she just die. To her it was not something to be afraid of, instead it would be the greatest gift she has ever gotten.
Milisecond to second to minute to hour to day to month to year.
"Today's the day you dirty whore, I am so glad I get to your expression when receive the gift we are kindly giving you today. Get over here now! Here I have gift right now." Awoken, she could not see, but she knew the voice the tone the pain it always caused. She did not look up in she simply stood and walked toward the gate, he body dragged lifelessly.
"Here you go! Haha" he spat in her face. His demeanour shifted from upright to holding his gut and belting out a sickening laugh.