“If three hundred sixty-six weren’t enough to survive, why is she alive?”
Hell wasn't on her bucket list, but she found herself walking towards its gate with conviction. She walked barefooted against the pieces of rocks that were purposely made broken to form sharp edges that can hurt her and shed tears.
SHED TEARS. She dared not to fall on her knees and let her eyes water with tears, for crying is not a weakness but was for her a sign of defeat, and she has no intention of doing such a thing. She entered hell with a hopeful heart ready to conquer the universe waiting for her rebellion. She had always known that she was destined to come there whole and leave broken— broken but alive, so she will.
I. She started playing with hell and tortured the tormented;
II. She destroyed the things she thought were in need of destruction;
III. She killed the dead and burned the bodies;
IV. She set the blazing fire into scorching waves of emotions feared by demons;
V. She put life to the definition of hell as she marks her journey with a roaring soul wanting to breathe, until she found herself reigning in every battle she got herself into.
She was so sure she would be able to get out alive that she forgot she wasn't in paradise… but in hell.
She was on her two hundred twelve days fighting as a warrior when hell decided to turn battles into wars. Her courage was tested and her hope was fading. She became like a flickering light ready to vanish in just a snap of a hand. The reigning champion suddenly became a loser as she put down her sword and bowed down to the King waiting for her death.
She almost went down to her knees and worship the demons staring at her soulless soul, mocking her pathetic courage when was just bound to give up… when she saw a flickering light giving her hint;
“You aren't alone, so get up.”
That was when she realized she had never bled tears but had cried blood, for it was always meant to be poured out when fighting.
It was on the 31st day of December when she reached the exit of hell, but she chose to stab herself and die, never having the chance to get out alive. Along with bitterness, pain, and regrets, her name was buried six feet under hell's deepest pit.
For she was meant to be reborn on the first day of January with a new hope. And though she died, still, her existence never faltered— giving birth to a braver bravery— and walked again to start a journey in a better hell.
[Photos sources:
https://pin.it/sz8eWfF
https://pin.it/7gmx0qO]
