Description from original post (created 2014-04-23 18:10):
My Contest EntryStory:
My name is Krysa
I live in a dark place
I've always been here
I suppose I always will be here.
Its always cold here.
And dark.
But it's alright, I like the dark
My father used to tell me stories of the time before
Before the cold
Before the darkness
He talks of light and warmth
Happiness and love.
The time of the above.
My father would talk about a large ball of fire in the sky.
He says it was the source of the light.
He says it was the day they blacked out the fire ball was the day the joy left.
He says they came from the sky.
From the stars
They destroyed our light
and then destroyed our world
My father took me and my mother below,
to the underground.
I was nought but a few weeks old.
I often asked what became of my mother.
My father would get a sad look in his eyes.
He would always tell me that she went back to the light.
He said she was waiting for us.
We are often hunted by the Crarks.
We hear scratches along the stone floors,
My father would say that was their claws.
We, too, have claws,
so I'd ask if they were like us.
His answer was always the same.
When the light left,
the darkness effected us all.
Some, more than others.
My father says we didn't always have our nails,
or our large ears, and tails.
He said our eyes didn't always glow like rubies,
and that our skin and hair wasn't always completely white.
Unsure of how that could be, I always assumed my father was joking.
One day, my father fell asleep.
He wouldn't wake when I shook him.
I called his name, but he just lay with his mouth agape.
I just left him there.
If he woke, he'd be able to find me.
I haven't seen him since.
Sometimes I wonder if he's joined my mother in the light.
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