Prompt: Write about the stupidest yet most meaningful and poetic thing you can think of such as this example:

'A marshmallow  falls in love with a mug of hot cocoa. He loves her so much and knows that in order to be with her he has to melt. And have a slow painful death, but for her.'

You don't even have to say what the main characters are until the end, like...a friendship, a murder, and revenge. This is the story of Rock, Paper, and Scissors.

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Winner: The3dreamers

Dedicated to the writers of the NBR. May your dreams of seeing your work in print one day come true.

Tales Inside Pressed Books

Sentenced to death, I had nothing to do but count the days until they called my number. My crime? Nothing. In fact, it was my blank innocence that got me into this situation.

Imprisoned where I could see my own fate carried out on other inmates, I knew what was coming. On the day I'd meet my maker, my creamy flesh would be stretched out and exposed for all to see. Tattoos would litter my fair skin when they were done. Then they'd draw their knife and slice me into a million pieces. That wasn't the worst part. When they finished—they'd sell me for my parts. Heartless butchers.

Yesterday, they took my sister to meet the maker. I trembled and cried when they came to take her away.

"Always the dramatic one," Paige said in a soothing tone. She brushed against me one last time. "I for one, am excited to meet my match. I know our maker will pair me with the perfect partner. Together, we'll be brilliant."

She sounded like a bride on her wedding day. Her match? I think she's delusional. Has reality numbed her mind?

Seeing my reaction she said, "Don't worry. Our maker knows what's best. Once you're paired, you'll understand." Her outstretched manila sleeve waved in the air as they dragged her away."

Paige!" I hollered. "I will always love you..."  I'd never know if she heard me, though.

A loud buzzing noise sounded overhead. Escaping the binds of fate was impossible now. My number was up.

His assistants lifted me up until I no longer touched the ground, then placed me down over some contraption. If I wasn't terrified, I might have enjoyed the rollercoaster ride they were taking me on. The maker rolled me out over the rack and smoothed his hands over me. Hundreds of wheels tickled my back as they stretched me out over them. Warm ink pressed onto my fair skin marking me forever. Strange—it didn't hurt.

Thousands more marking appeared over me in mere minutes. I held my breath waiting for the final slice to end my existence. The blade shone and plunged through me.

Everything went dark.

A light appeared and got brighter as ribbons of my former self, shuffled and stacked together. Magically, my tattoos started to make sense as my match claimed me for his own. His inky words washed over me, enchanting my heart. Together our story would be told for thousands of years.

When a bound copy of myself slid to the end of the line, I realized my sister was right. This wasn't my final chapter—it was a new beginning. My maker picked me up, wrapped me in a dusty jacket, and ran a finger down my spine.

Before sending me on my journey, he said only one comforting word—my name, "Novella."

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*August prompt challenge now closed