fatesprophet

The rest of the world is celebrating a day of togetherness and love when he sees her for the first time. That is not to say he notices her. On the contrary, his eyes brush right through her as though she is not even there. It may be that she is not, but the catch in her empty chest is something new, startling enough to warrant a hitch of breath and the merest closing flutter of eyelids as a hand comes up to cradle the pain in her torso. It is a long time later when she realizes that what she felt on that day of red and white and flower petals is what the day has always been about—and that by seeing him on that day and her subconscious

Time had no meaning to her anymore, whether it be the passage of hours or the passing of days, weeks, months; the only light she saw anymore was artificial. The only way she knew that time still worked was because there was an old-fashioned calendar, the kind with pages one could rip off, in view of the small window in the door of her cell. She'd tried to keep count of how long she'd been there at first, but after they'd put her under for almost a week, she'd given that up, too. She didn't know what they wanted from her, or even why they'd chosen her in the first place. The words the scientists used were so complex, so confusing, like 'cerco

She'd always enjoyed watching him; not in some silly, perverted sense like so many other girls would have, but just watching, as he trained or sparred or something, anything really. She'd been lucky enough to be one of the few he trusted enough to get close to, the only female he'd ever trusted, and she knew it too, knew that the trust went both ways and that she didn't exactly trust anyone else like she trusted him, either. Trust had always run deep in their relationship, because it was what their friendship was essentially founded on. Not love or lust of a thirst for companionship, but trust. She'd lost her whole team when she'd barely bee

something made into absolutely nothing at all and my heart still beating works like water and fire two things that aren't supposed to be together because after all we are just two people who may be different but are probably more alike then i think so i wait and i sing the little song of shining and time like a clock continues on like my heart keeps going on because hope despite my yearning is not something easily given up

I want to be the girl that Does something meaningful With her life I want to be the girl that May not be remembered By the world tomorrow But is always remembered By her friends Because she was the girl Who was always there with a shoulder to cry on When times were hard I want to be the friend that Always had a way to cheer up Peoples' saddest days I want to be the friend that Never judged people based On clothes or looks or first impressions I want to be the friend who Had a funeral larger then planned Because she touched so many peoples' lives I want to be the person that Had no regrets About anything she did Because