9th lifeThe sound of bullets ricochetting off the walls fill my ears as sweat dripps down my face. The white paint full of holes flies by me. Shouts filled the room but the sound of war in the room outmatch it in a contest of sound. I was told to fight, instead I ran, I ran yet still they caught up. I was told to unleash my power, instead I hid it, I hid it yet still they found out. I was told to keep calm, instead I screamed, I screamed and ran. I ran. I hid. I screamed. I disobeyed. And disobeying meant death. As pain shot through me, my eyes faided to black...
Death, why did I hate death so much? Some loved it, you could change, become someone better, prettier, smarter. Others didn't care, they were who they were and wouldn't change. I hated it, the failure, the shame. We risked our lives to escape, knowing we only had thirteen chances. Thirteen lives. We all had a set death, a set day in which we would never return. Thirteen times we could die, thirteen deaths we could use. Thirteen deaths we could use untill that day. The day of never return.
Our powers never changed, our personnality could, our strenths could, we could re-write ourselves yet always our power stayed. Have you ever, for one day, just wanted to be the smartest of you class? Have you ever, for one day, just wanted to be the strongest? Have you ever wanted to be the kindest? The girliest? The funniest? The most tomboy? The most artistic? Have you ever wanted to be liked, no matter what the cost? Even if the cost is death?
I was floating in deep, black space. Covered in unaching wounds and tattered clothes it was time to change. Time to live. I straitened up and cleared my throat.
A satisfying ding interuppted my thoughts. The words: 'Hair Colour?' apeard before me. "Uh, Brown?" I ordered nervously. It was quickly replaced with 'Hair Size?' "Long" I responded. 'Bangs?' "Nope". 'Eyebrow Size?' "Medium." 'Clothes?' "Blue sweater with inside pockets, grey T-shirt, Black yoga pants, Black socks, Black head bandana, blue runners." 'Height?' "Avarage" And then came the one I was dreading, 'Name?'
Name. In my past lives I've had names like Mackayla or Sonya to ones like Eirate and Sanleif. This time it will be simple. So I cleared my throat and said: "Petra Campellie"