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Hey guys, ready for Part 15? Hopefully you are because… it’s here and it’s not gonna wait for you. ((Well technically it will but… that’s okay)) Enjoy, tell me what you think at the bottom! Oh! And also, you should definitely go watch The Great Showman because it’s kinda everything you want in a movie
If you’re lost, confused or just bored, here’s the other 14 parts. Part 14, Part 13, Part 12, Part 11, Part 10, Part 9, Part 8, Part 7, Part 6, Part 5, Part 4, Part 3, Part 2, Part 1 ((Wow, that’s a lot of parts…. We’ve come far my friends))
We run for a long time, I don’t get tired. My breath eventually leaves me and I lose the feeling in my legs. But I don’t tire. I can’t tire. Not when she’s on the line. Not when everything’s on the line.
She yells at me to stop, a thousand times. Maybe a million. But I don’t focus on her voice. And I don’t focus on the fact that her skin is touching mine and that it’s so smooth and perfect. And I definitely don’t focus on the fact that she’s here, in here, with me. Which I am still trying to convince myself is a bad thing. Because if I focus on those things, I’ll tire. My legs wills give out and my breath with come back but in great heaves and gasps and my lungs will burn along with everything else. So I focus on pomegranates. I focus on what they look like. What they symbolize. I focus on memories I have of pomegranates. I only have a few.
One time, a woman handed me a pomegranate. It was one of my first times up there. It was almost painful to take in all at once. All the color. All the life. All the wonder. I was sitting on the sidewalk, my hands around my head, trying to take it in slowly, my pack pressed up against the wall. I was taking deep breaths and shaking so hard I thought I would just fall into a million pieces right there.
But then, this woman, her face sharp and tired handed me this pomegranate. Said that it would help calm my head. That it would stop the headache. Pomegranates don’t do that, don’t stop headaches. I didn’t know that at the time. I didn’t know not to take food from strangers either. I just new that my head hurt and if I could just stop the pain, I could I eat the whole thing, then waited for my mind to clear.
And then I was sent back. I was sent back here. For a few months, I was here. And then I managed to get back. And I could take it all in, every single bit of the fresh new world that I had so desperately wanted to soak in. So maybe the pomegranate did take away the headache in the long run but.
I skid to a stop, she runs into me and steadies herself on my shoulder.
“Thank god,” She sighs, lifting her arms over her heads, “You know, we’re not all the master of death that can run forever.”
“Shut up,” I say. She scoffs and pouts at me as I think. The pomegranate sent me back here. That means… maybe, just maybe. I can send her back up there. Maybe I can save her.
Just because I’m hell bound, doesn’t mean she is.
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