Raven

Just like my name I am nothing, but a symbol of death and a bad omen. Speaking my name will only leave a bitter taste and a uncurable curse. My parents gave me a curse since birth and that would be life. Only, I, will be my latest disaster for eternity. The wine of desire for death runs through my veins, as if it's a river of hexed blood. I've sent morse code messages to family and friends, but no one seems to translate them. Once my body feels like ice cold snow and once, I let out my last sigh, only then it'll be late.

I was meant for hopeless dreams, wasting my 11:11 wishes on impossible out of reach dreams. Only the insufferable can dream of the impossible. There is no faith and there is no luck, only a bad oath left within the 2 ft radius of my body.

I'm not a good person.