Interior walls of plaster:
Who am I?
These silicone plaster wrapped around my flesh. Squeezing blood. Showing the pinky red vibrant dye.
It can’t be peeled.
I looked at the mirror and I found myself in a traditional looking ancient rural place.
With thin black hair and very delicate skin. A boy need for shelter. My face turned and saw nearby, ghost
looking figures with extra layers of white paint in their face. Most notably related to some sacred tradition.
Next thing I encountered tall men like a size of titans wearing a white robe with red marks and funny hats. All of a sudden I woke up!
My identity is mysterious?
Everytime I am seeing all these mysterious things which appears in my head.
I sense all the pain. It’s hard for me to express all this. This is like a documentary studying psychology.
One thing for sure I saw an oil painting of me and three other people. Somehow it felt like I knew them. However,
I don’t know who I am?
My name: No.
Oh, but there is one thing I know. I believe in justice. Also, that I love writing which is a coincidence cause I do. Despite in that time there was no technology. I saw myself sitting in a wooden chair. With a quil in my hand and a small jar of ink on the table right beside my book! The wall are made of chalk. Unfortunately, they are easy to break. I had a team who went to war. The rest is death and misfortune.
This would be a good use of history expect is is a story! :(