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Notes

This book was one of the winners of the Write a Book contest. It was written by Stone Shory Thunder.


The Letter

I am thankful, for my death.

It's weird how one's memory works. I remember details, vivid points acting as dots connected to each other through the foggy cloud of what was a past life. A past life of anger and resilience, ambition and pride, mistakes and conviction.

It all started with a letter.
"The" letter.

"THERE WOULD HAVE BEEN NO FUTURE FOR ANY OF US HAD I SMILED UPON YOU WITH KINDNESS. YOU WERE A POTENTIAL THREAT."
"SO I CAST YOU OUT THAT YOU MAY FIND THE STRENGTH TO FACE YOUR INNER HELL ALONE."

Those statements, I must've had read them hundreds of times over. Their voice, echoing in my head. All my work, all my suffering and hardships, and now, they seek to claim any sort of credit? After cursing me, after damming me, after taking my future away from me?

I was foolish. The anger feeling my head with thoughts of revenge and grandeur, it drove me a troll tunnel system near Thais. I must've been there for days, all I remember were trolls, dying at my feet with a single impact of my fists, being used for nothing more than for my desire to become stronger, better.

"I AM THE ORACLE. YOU CANNOT BREAK ME. I AM PERPETUAL.
I wanted to prove them wrong. I WAS going to break them, take their destiny and make it mine. How ambitious I was.

I found myself near a well, hands bloodied, stamina drained, the need for rest took over my thought process and I made the trip down. As my muscles grew relaxed, and eyelids started to close, I felt a small sting on my abdomen, causing me to quickly turn around.

A lowly, single, scorpion. A simple stomp killed it, but it was too late. I was poisoned.
I could've run...
I could've run and probably find help on my way to town.
But I didn't.
I couldn't let anyone see me in this state. I could've not be perceived as weak. I'd rather let it all end. Prideful as ever, I was.

My voice was the first to give in.
My Vision followed suit, not shortly after.

And as my lounges stopped working, I clenched the letter in my hand as my life fade from me. My rage, my anger, died with me in that well.

I am thankful, for my death.

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