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12.5% The Life and Times of an Average Coward / Chapter 1: It's a good day to die isn't it?
The Life and Times of an Average Coward The Life and Times of an Average Coward original

The Life and Times of an Average Coward

Auteur: XielleSky

© WebNovel

Chapitre 1: It's a good day to die isn't it?

The Life and Times of an Average Coward

Chapter 01: It's a good day to die isn't it?

*-*-*-*-*

'Is this... how I'm going to die?'

The cheerful rays of sunshine seared my eyeballs with the intensity of a flashlight directly pointed on them but with the addition of uncomfortable heat. The sky was blue with clouds here and there with the occasional chirping birds flying by. The breeze was gentle, raffling my long black hair with it and the glades of grass surrounding me.

It was such a beautiful day.

'The world must be mocking me and what the hell just happened?'

A lone white flower, that I don't know the name of, was right beside my face, brushing its soft unusual petals on my cheeks. With its closeness, I could focus on the pink spots creeping on its edges, slowly dying it red as it continued to brush alongside my face. 'What was the name of this flowers again? I can't really remember... but this was, Mama's favorite flower wasn't it?'

Someone was screaming on the background, I can hear them saying something but I can't really make it out with the ears that I was always proud of. What Mama and Grandma were always proud of.

(I have perfect pitch if you must know.)

And it gave me a lot, except for my sorry excuse of a sperm donor's approval. Not that I cared what he says.

My eyes were starting to get blurry and the white flower looked nothing more but an undistinguishable blob of color.

'Oh right... that guy visited didn't he?'

That good for nothing lout that my super awesome Mama doesn't deserve had the nerve to visit while he was drunk out of his mind. Asshole started yelling and breaking things.

Speaking of yelling, I think Mama is the one whose yelling and... is she crying?

"Ma... ma?" My voice came out hoarse and wet to my ears, with the taste of iron heavy on my tongue.

I can feel someone grasp my numbing hand, squeezing it almost painfully. "Sh... ar...—right?... Baby... no!... ple—...!" Her usual gentle tone sounded wrong in my ears, if anything, it was barely audible for me, but from what I've heard it was filled with fear, sadness, denial and anguish.

Mama was supposed to be smiling and not crying, it was supposed to be a happy day since I won the contest. She's not supposed to cry anymore.

I tried to glance at her direction but I can't make out her crying face, but I know it was her from just a blurry glance.

With difficulty, I moved my lips to say something and I barely succeeded. "...Don'... cry..." The sobbing intensified. "Shmile... p'ease..."

The warm shaking hands holding mine squeezed tighter but I barely felt it. "Sweetie— please... Mama st—, needs... you, see— smiling..."

Peace seemed to wash over me for some reason. I didn't panic like what I usually would and I'm kinda confused at myself for not crying at all. Me, not crying at a time like this is new, but rather than dwell on it I accepted that fact.

I felt the pain on my side go away, as my vision completely blanked out on me and for the first time in forever all I heard was the deafening sound of silence.

.

.

.

.

.

'Mama really is beautiful when she smiles.'

.

.

.

.

.

I thought the silence would last a lifetime but I was completely wrong on that account.

It was certainly surprising when I cried out of surprise and I heard the wailing sound of a crying baby.


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