[Here the prompt is to imagine a person telling a story by starting with ‘Emma said that…’. Then after the piece is finished, you remove the first three words to yield a story. This one turned a bit dark by accident!]
There was no escaping this life we’re living. It was a trap from beginning to end, and there was nothing any of us could do about it. She couldn’t take any more of it; she craved for the light. Where was the light? Did it exist for creatures like us, creatures that even Lucifer in his dank, dark Hell spat on?