Synopsis
I thought it would be over. One final act—a plunge into darkness in front of the one person I trusted. I welcomed the void, craving an end. But death, it turns out, isn’t as merciful as I’d hoped.
Instead, I was pulled through an endless spiral of lives—reborn, reshaped, each version a cruel twist of fate. In one life, I hold my allies close; in another, I destroy them. Over and over, I’m thrust into fractured worlds, with my identity splintered across timelines, trapped in realities that defy meaning.
It’s an illusion so elaborate it’s become real. An infinite nightmare I cannot escape, where I’m always fighting, falling, breaking. I live, I die, and in each twisted version of myself, I lose another fragment of what I once knew as truth. Tragedy here isn’t a possibility; it’s the rule, a loop unbroken.
Once a tragedy, always a tragedy.
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continued on scribble hub.
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The once rhythmic beat of my heart grew erratic, fast one moment and agonizingly slow the next. It felt like my very existence was revolting against me. Each breath I took was shallow, weak, as if my lungs had forgotten how to draw in air. The anxiety clawed at my throat, a silent scream that refused to leave my lips. When the tears came, they were sudden and overwhelming. They streaked down my face, hot and unrelenting, leaving me gasping for air. I hated crying—it felt like admitting defeat—but no matter how much I tried to hold it back, the dam would always break. The fear, the loneliness, the inevitability of it all—it was too much for one person to carry. Even in those moments, I found myself wishing. Wishing that someone would notice, that someone would care. But the world around me kept turning, oblivious to my pain. And so, I sat there, clutching my cup of cold coffee, staring at the rain-streaked window, waiting for the end to come.
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