Greetings! The name is Time Lizzy, or Time as my friends call me. They/Them pronouns. I love to try new things, draw, sing, dance, garden, and I do some witchcraft in my free time. I'm a Hetalia role playing partner if you guys are interested.
You were shunned for your ugly face. Your fellow knights gave you the worst jobs and the girls are disgusted by you. In the middle of a war against the Orc Horde, you are abandoned. Ditched! And captured… As it turns out however, from an Orc’s point of view, you are ridiculously handsome.
It turns out that the happy birthday song is a necromantic ritual which siphons life from the singers and gives it to the person they’re singing to. When you’re young, you often have large birthday parties with lots of friends to sing to you and keep you healthy and vital. But as you get older, your circle of friends shrinks, and you slowly stop celebrating your birthday. Without the life force of others to sustain you, you slowly age and wither away.
I’m only 15, turning 16 this year. I haven’t had anyone sing me happy birthday since the first grade. after that, Voices told me what happened when they did. Now, at every Birthday party I sing my heart out, top of my lungs… people have always complimented me on my voice, but over time my voice deteriorated, I wasn’t allowed to sing anymore. One night I am visited by a demon.
“Why do you sing that song to everyone, but refuse to have it sung to you?” they asked and lifted their hand smoothly. I could talk once more;
“I do not deserve it, my family and friends do so much to make sure I am happy, so, when I tell them not to sing, I say it is because I believe in a superstition that it is bad luck. I know it is lie, but I cannot stop them from singing to anyone else… so I figured if they don’t sing for me… they may live just one year longer.”
“But you will kill yourself.” The demon spoke, still seeming confused
“Then so be it.” I reply, to which the Demon recoiled
“why do you wish to die?”
“Because I am worth nothing.”
“you’re worth something to your family and friends.”
I shook my head “They would be better off without me.” I begin coughing, but I was usually sick, so I was used to it
“you are sick often.” the demon looked
“How do you know?” I ask, truly curious
“it is my job to find those who are upset with themselves. but you, you were the hardest one to find.”
“and why is that?”
The demon stood “I find people by way of those around them singing, Demons live a lot longer than humans, so each year feels like a day to us. Time moves quickly.”
“I already knew that time moved quickly. that is why I continue to wait.”
They sigh “I need them to sing for you, or you will die before your time. and that is not fair for any of you humans. You, or your family, or your friends.”
“I do not want them to sing.” I hum softly
“But-”
“I do not ever want to be sung a happy birthday, because it is just another day, because I know that if they do not sing, they will not lose their lives so quickly.”
It turns out that the happy birthday song is a necromantic ritual which siphons life from the singers and gives it to the person they’re singing to. When you’re young, you often have large birthday parties with lots of friends to sing to you and keep you healthy and vital. But as you get older, your circle of friends shrinks, and you slowly stop celebrating your birthday. Without the life force of others to sustain you, you slowly age and wither away.
I was young back then but wasn’t afraid to dream big
I wanted to bring writers and readers together. I failed miserably.
Then @promptdude came along and he shared the same dreams!
Together we want to create a place where you can share your writing. But we want to know if enough people are interested. Our mission is to create a user-friendly interface and build a small but very interactive community for our amigos.
Join the movement. You can sign up here: theread.club
We are still developing the website, amigos. This is to see if enough people are interested!
Your phone suddenly receives an emergency alert that tells you to seek shelter immediately. Your pet slowly walks up to you, looks you dead in the eye, and says: “The time has come. Follow me.”
You’re the only human in the world who can use magic. Rather than being locked up or anything, you have to deal with a lot of passive-aggressive laws set up wherever you go about the use of magic.
