“Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It’s the transition that’s troublesome.” ~Isaac Asimov
I sometimes wish I’d died that day. But I didn’t. My Aunt and I both went on, but how does one go back to their normal life after seeing something like that? After feeling the the very bone chilling and empty touch of death itself?
She took care of me the same as she had always done, but she looked at me differently from that day, almost as if she was afraid; of me, or of what our world had become, I’m uncertain. What I am certain of, though, is that when she looks at me she sees something that she didn’t see before, and that frightens me.
And that day, it had only been the beginning of the ‘rifts’.
The cults and their creatures and creations pour through the rifts in numbers so great, and so frequently, how are they to ever be stopped? I am told not to worry about such things but how can I not when they are the reason for my stolen childhood, for never being able to settle in one place, for me changing.
I must do something. I must find my way, I must step forward out of this purposeless existence and do something, be someone. If there is something different about me than before the day that death rift came, I will find out what it is and I will find a way to use it to my advantage.
After all, what else is there?