rp style….uh…oH! you mean my writing style. sure! I'm just gonna grab this from a story I'm currently writing
tw: suicide
Artemis Sparrow. Youngest Chemist in the world. A Chemistry Professor at Hitchsville University. And a spy for Ashely Burton, the leader of the Damned during the "Great War."
She was all of that once upon a time. Now she was the most hated person in Hitchsville and the reason why Harriet Jones was dead. Of course, they blamed her for the girl's death. Despite Artemis having nothing to do with it. She didn't ask for the Jones girl to jump in front of her and take a bullet that was meant for Artemis. But the girl did it. And she was blamed for it. And then everyone turned their backs on her. Albert. Francine. Pansy. Athena. Even Poppy. Everyone she had once considered a family had turned their backs on her.
And it hurt.
It hurt so badly.
She spent weeks drinking, trying to forget the betrayal at the hands of her friends. Her family. But it didn't work. Nothing she tried worked. Nothing would numb the pain. Nothing.
Perhaps this was the reason why she was currently bleeding from her wrists with a knife mere inches away from her body.
The world hated her. The people he considered family hated her. And if drinking wouldn't numb the pain, then what would?
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Death was a much better option than living in a world where she would be openly hated for a thing she didn't do. She wasn't afraid of Death. Not anymore. She would be waiting for Death with open arms. Like an old friend.
She closed her eyes and a small smile appeared on her face. She stopped breathing and her body became limp.
Artemis Sparrow was dead.