Where am I? who or what am I? why do I have these memories?
Life is a mystery because what makes life “Life” having a soul? Being a soul? Or is it having a living body? Or is it living your life with the meaning you give it? Or is life only life because of death at the end?

This is a short/one-shot. I really liked the story, so I am going to write more on Consciousness, learning what she does not understand anymore. Why “It” is who “It” is. So

I don’t know what genre I should give this story.

I also don’t know what groups to put it in.

The story focuses a little on domestic abuse and bullying but only a little in the beginning. As well as small hick-ups along the way, I will not go into great detail about the subject, but there will be problems later on.

Any feedback and criticism are welcome.

Genres and age rating may change in the future.

I own all the rights to the picture. It was made by NixWorld a amazing artist.