Part XVII
7:14 - September 13, 2012 - Paris
A bad dream, I guess. I awoke this morning in the Parisian luxury hotel, the pair of golden scissors on the bedside table. In this dream, I had been a robot of some sort, controlled by a brain in a jar. My brain. I remember killing, and that's about it. There was so much blood, so much death.
I'm only a teenager of 17 years, and yet I'm following a random journal's directions through time, aided only by a pair of expensive scissors. Perhaps if I attempt to cut something with the scissors, maybe that'd do something.
There are so many questions, I have no idea what I'm getting myself into. My only choice is to press forward, with this knowledge of time travel, there's no turning back.
Chris Banker
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Destiny Park is a fictional city in Washington, USA. During an epidemic in 2032, it was abandoned and destroyed by the government. STORY TAGS
THE GOODS
You're currently reading a chapter in the story
The Death of Me. This chapter
was posted on Jan 24, 2011 by
FirestormInfinity.
This is a solo story.
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This story is filed under:
Science Fiction, Supernatural, Teen / Young Adult
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