A little experiment of mine although it's a bit rough and could use some editing when I grab the chance... should I carry on?
Last of the Seven Sisters
“Either the soul is immortal, and we shall not die, or it perishes with the flesh, and we shall not know we are dead. Live then as if you were eternal.”
Prologue-Reflections of the Past
Many lives for me have come and gone. Each one haunting me with a memory I want so much to forget…each death making me colder, crystallizing the heart I carry with me though every sorry birth for what may be eternity. If only I could keep a life for more than twenty years…
They call me Amaranth, the never fading. That is the closest I have ever had to a real name, since I have gone through so many. I should go insane…die…but I know tat even if I should try, I would just be born again, and have to survive a fresh life of torture.
In one life, 2007, I was a beaten child. My father was a drunkard and a drug addict, and I used to dread the evenings when I returned from school to find him brandishing a glass bottle like a weapon. My mother left…of course, she did not take me with her…the constant reminder of that man she so stupidly gave her life over to. I never saw her again. By the age of twelve, I was just another Jane Doe, who hung herself after the last straw.
Another life, I had reached nineteen with few horrors. It was 1066, and I was unmarried, which was strange for a woman of my age. I had died that time when rebels from another kingdom invaded our own, burning the villages as they went, leaving even the women and children desperately screaming through the flames.
I have even died before I was born, and with such a short life, I can remember something like choking, and I knew I was already dead.
I have only gotten this far once, and then someone heartless took my life away from me. I have found that I cannot love, because I will lose. I cannot hope, for it had been stolen from me. If I could stop my condition, I could lie in peaceful silence for eternity and be contempt. I have lived for to many years to believe in angels.
Chapter one, The End of Another Story.
All of my past deaths have been grim. I have seen massacre, I have seen murder, I have seen the dark side of Mother Nature…but never once have I met something like this. Not once in all of my lives has my death as the spirit, Amaranth been arranged for me. It made me wonder why, since they obviously knew what I was; they had gone to the trouble of killing me in a life that I would not miss. Surely, they were not killing me, but merely hindering me in my steady path into eternity.
I looked down at the brightly illuminated screen of the phone. It was not mine, I did not have one. I found that it was the one thing that all the brainless people of the world were obsessed with, and besides, I never knew how many years I had left, so I hadn’t bothered. My grandmother, who I lived with, had agreed. “Your predecessors had got on just fine without such nonsense, Eve. It’s all of this material value that has made the world the twisted thing it is.” She had told me when I confided in her my opinion. I would miss her…but there would always be people I would miss. Their memory would live on in my undying mind.
I know who you are, Amaranth, the last sister. You will die tonight, your time is up. I know you will come, because you would rather sacrifice one of your many lives for the single life of another. 12:30 in the alley by the museum tonight, or you will live with the guilt forevermore, that I promise.
When she received the text message this afternoon, my friend, Vicky went white as a sheet as if she had seen a ghost. For a moment, she didn’t even look as if she was going to breathe, and then she sighed and managed to whisper, “Oh my god…”
“What’s wrong?” I asked, struck by total shock at her sudden freeze. The thing with Vicky was that she wasn’t fazed by anything. Her parents split up when she was fourteen, and where most teenage girls would have had a breakdown, Vicky was perfectly calm, and obediently spent the weeks alternating between her mom and her dad until she turned sixteen and got her own flat. Other things had happened to her which were much worse, but we didn’t talk about that for a good reason.
She hesitated for a moment, and then composed herself because she was drawing attention to us in the quiet little café we had ducked inside for coffee when it had begun to rain, and held out her chunky battered phone to me. I looked at the message and my eyes widened as I read. I let out a deep sigh instead of screaming like I wanted to. Well, I knew it had to happen sooner or later, but I didn’t think like this…
“I have no Idea.” I murmured, my eyes darting around as if the person who had sent the message was here in the café, but nobody had even taken out a phone in the past twenty minutes and it wasn’t exactly crowded. How they had gotten hold of Vicky’s number was beyond me, but I had to say, that was a clever move since I hadn’t a phone, text the person closest who would trust me enough to show me the message…
“Oh god, we should go to the police!” She whispered, trying not to show obvious signs of alarm. “Maybe they got the number wrong, but whoever this is for…” She shuddered. “I hate to think…”
“No…remember what it said? ‘You would rather sacrifice one of your many lives to save the single life of another’, he’s going to kill someone, Vic. If we hand him in…” I felt my heart sink. Twenty years, no longer…not that I’d had any illusions, yet it was still disappointing. But how did this anonymous person know what I was? I had been careful not to tell anyone, not even my grandmother who was probably the only person other than Vicky that I trusted in my last ten lives at least, since I had no parents. Considering my experiences, I couldn’t see that as an entirely bad thing.