How Eve died. Life is a Story - story.one

When I was ten, I met someone, in a cold forest, not far outside my town. He told me he was an unicorn, and that he could show me paradise. Looking back he mightve been the snake in my garden eden, slithering out of the bushes and leading me towards temptation, but I was nine and so I believed him.When I was ten, someone told me that paradise, was not something to be found, sitting stiffly in the garden, no matter how pretentiously pretty it was. She gave me wings and told me to fly over the garden wall, to find paradise outside it. I was ten, so I believed her.When I was eleven, someone showed me my blood and made me admire the red of it. A year later, I drowned them in it.Considering everything I was, am and have been (naive, cruel, nothing), I suppose my story went about as great as I could have expected. They gave me an apple and I ate it. They told me it would bring about paradise and I believed them. They left me to die and I did. I just wish I could regret it.

Autorentext

Hello, my name is Esmeray, I am 16 years old and am, currently ,living in germany. Ever since I was a little child, Ive been a fan of Myths. They have always fascinated me, with their creatures and conflicts and carefully, crafted tales. As I got older, I also learned to like psychology, which then, together with my interest in writing, developed into a preference for writing stories such as this one. Ones with magic and psychology and the like. Besides, a wise man once said that good writing demands the author to show themselves vulnerably and now with the soft evening wind in my hair and words on my page, that I know are exactly the kind of story, I have always wished to write, I cant help but think that he was right. So, instead of explaining myself to you further, go on and read Eve, a tale of myth, mystery and magic.