If there was one thing she prized above all else, it was choice.
Not everyone made the same decisions. Not everyone should make the same decisions.
And no one, not one single person to ever live or ever will live should get to make another’s choice for them.
She had lived through so many others making her decisions for her, without her consent and mostly without her knowledge.
Now that she knew what had been done, what had been bartered, what had been taken and stolen from her…
Now she would take back what little of her own life remained.
If she should die, then by all that was and would be, she would die having chosen to do so.
That did not mean that she was choosing death.
She was choosing to live and make her own choices.
If those choices placed her at odds with the world and that led to her death, however…
She closed her eyes and shrunk in on herself.
For one moment, she was more alone than she had ever been in her entire life.
She felt the burn of her lungs as she refused to draw in air.
She took that burn and used it to pull herself up, her shoulders widened from where they had been cringing against her body. Her head came up and her feet took a steadier stance. Her eyes opened as she finally let out that one held breath slowly and then allowed more air to come in again, regaining the rhythm that all know when they are breathing in measured strides, as if preparing themselves for something that would not be easy, but would be worth it.
This was her life and her decision to make.
No one else’s.
This little snippet was born from the Dungeon Prompts: No Matter Time nor Place.