This story is for the competition of Rani. And for other competitions, if they want it. But it's mainly for Rani's, because she rocks like that. The sheet of paper was sitting there quietly, as it mocked the girl who was in front of it, posed and ready to stay there, unless actions were made. The girl, seemed to be no less confused than a little animal, not understanding what was really going on. She knew what she wanted to do, but she never felt as if there was a reason to leave anything said. She perfected it to be left unsaid, and it was really thought to stay that way. The lines were college sheets, but to the girl seemed to the mere sheet of an old man, since she couldn't process it in her head. The paper was for her, since she felt the silk texture from her fingerprints, smudged with something not comprehensible, but it was sheer on the paper, with tiny marks. She left the table, not even wanting to even dare see the paper ever again from hands and body again.
The body and soul was hers, but she felt like nothing could help the fact that the paper was her own death certificate. How cruel the mind of people will come to less fortunate, as they will without no emotion give herself away for her own judgement. She never wanted it to come true, but her dreams turn into the strangest of her past, and it haunted her ever so. She dreamt that at a younger age where the girl was going to grow up normally, and her pigtails would bounce as she quietly giggled to get family, and left no sadness anywhere, she was a child with a bright future. She was getting sophisticated everyday, and her parents felt insecure of what could happen to their precious girl. The little girl had a sister, and an adopted sister. Her biological sister was named Addy, who was quiet and timid and loved to stay next to her sister, easily waiting for someone to smile. On the other notion, there was Gina, who was incredibly gentle and kind to everyone around her, timid like Addy, but with more care than anyone could imagine. She always dreamed of learning the world around her, and that love would spread. The family seemed like a typical healthy family, in the middle class, but the aside from her sisters, the little girl was merely...disconnected. She had dreams of stories that were twisted and out of mind, but kept them to herself. She dreamt slowly that she held the arms of the severed heads of her sisters, while her parents were sleeping. She was horrified, and the heads were runny, still, and mute, with big fluttering green eyes, and reddened cheeks. She was so horrified that she could make no more of a sound than they did, small, and lifeless. The dream came true. Everyone wept, except the little girl, she lay there, paralyzed by the true events, and the time that it took for the girl to find out that she was in shock. She wrote cute stories about her life, in the ruined mountaintop house where she was born, in the northernmost part of Tuscany, Italy. But after these events, she became so unsocial it became a sickness to her, she didn't want no one to know, and it seemed nerve-wracking. She challenged her thoughts, and they seemed to ruin her, and tried to write stories of her new life, without the dreams, and suddenly, she got her wish. But there was a cost. A cost, indeed. What drives the girl to stop the madness was the way she dreamed it would be like without it. But now she is here, maybe writing her last words, on the paper that would surely be set in stone, for her watchers to bestow what the girl offered. A man, with guns strapped at his lace, sat down and looked at the woman in the eye. Though at a young age, the girl seemed to be shaped as a woman, and none know why, but tells she was giving workouts to get body, but by starving. Starved herself for a reason no one gives. No even herself. The man chuckled, with his hair pointing out of his chin being touched gently, and said with calmness,"So.....this is where is ends?" The girl said sternly,"Damn it, Vittorio. You really want me to this."her musky Italian accent seeping through the room, so dead. "I don't care of this paper. I asked how will this work out? You imposing dead, then what the hell are you going to do?"Vittorio said, rolling his brown leather eyes. The girl sighed,"I have my ways. Told you I already fucked this up once, i will fuck it up again." Vittorio laughed,"You still got it." The girl thought- Well, being imposed dead doesn't give me and option to stay and be dead. I will find my purpose to live, and I don't give a damn who cares. The girl smiled at Vittorio. "I am Celine. And I intend of making this work, for all the good and bad, I will avenge what I did."
Walking out of the place Celine didn't want to stay so close to it ever again, it came true to mind that she didn't actually have a plan of being recognized as dead, but only playing the minor role of a peasant, not even close to what she actually wanted. She transcribed to be a writer, or a journalist, but the times past, and she needed the money safe and in the hands of her family, safely keeping it. They did not know that their daughter, as silent as she is, didn't know what she was up to, and thought of her as a lost child, that was eager to come back. Celine chuckled at the thought, for which she never wanted contact with the family, it only haunted her into places she didn't want to reveal to anyone, until this was straightened out. She looked like a regular person, but her olive hair turned into dusty brown, and her features, covered by a mask to show a different face, and her name, she was now known as Gwen. Nothing seemed like her, and it felt like it would work. She came up to a handsome man, with black hair and a tattoo on his face, that symboled heroism, and adventure, in some sort of language that was dated and lost many decades ago, but Celine never thought about it, until now. He hardened at her gaze,"So, peasant. Are you here to join the clan?" He ruffled his hair. "I don't know. I've been looking for clans. And it's Gwen. I don't appreciate the shit." "Oh. Well, I guess you won't find much." "Why not?" "Seems like everyone is disappearing, ever since the the nobles have some sort of new tradition." "What tradition?" "Who knows. They just told up it required blood." "Blood?!" Celine was startled. "Yes. And I would appreciate the help." "Alright...I'll join..what clan?" "Perception clan #2367, Gwen. We are few of the leftovers. The clans kept disappearing after the new nobles, and you won't find us anywhere else." "Ha. I'll see it." And that's where Celine's journey began. In a shit-hole.