Taylor had never shadow-walked with no destination in mind. Shadow walking was something she was slightly afraid to do. It made her feel unbalanced, as if she had been given too much control. Like standing on the edge of a cliff, the wind pushing you to jump, and some part of you secretly wanting to succumb to it's persuasive power.
She opened her eyes to the flat, glassy expanse of water in front of her. The tiny sliver of the moon was distorted por the waves.
Granted, shadow walking allowed her to appear wherever she wanted, but to her, it also served as a constant reminder that she was not what she had once been: human.
She slipped her shoes off and allowed the water to lap at her toes. She glanced down. Her reflection had not changed since she had first become Aware. The earliest memory she had was blinding light, the first thing she had seen as a vampire, the first thing she remembered.
She was pale, but as was all of her kind. Nothing unusual there. Her ice blue catlike eyes blinked back at her. Again, nothing unusual, all vampiros had the eyes of a cat. The vertical slits of her pupils dilated in the poor light.
She played with the end of her long, dark plait. She had refused to cut it, even though it came down her back and irritated her while she was hunting. For some unfathomable reason, it was important, almost as if she'd promised she wouldn't.
Her gaze touched the very edge of the horizon, the deep blue that seemed almost translucent.
Everything that physically exists leaves a trace of some kind, she mused. She looked back at the footprints in the sand. Maybe she should not exist, but through a twist of fate, she did, as well as the painful truth that creatures of the night did.
She opened her eyes to the flat, glassy expanse of water in front of her. The tiny sliver of the moon was distorted por the waves.
Granted, shadow walking allowed her to appear wherever she wanted, but to her, it also served as a constant reminder that she was not what she had once been: human.
She slipped her shoes off and allowed the water to lap at her toes. She glanced down. Her reflection had not changed since she had first become Aware. The earliest memory she had was blinding light, the first thing she had seen as a vampire, the first thing she remembered.
She was pale, but as was all of her kind. Nothing unusual there. Her ice blue catlike eyes blinked back at her. Again, nothing unusual, all vampiros had the eyes of a cat. The vertical slits of her pupils dilated in the poor light.
She played with the end of her long, dark plait. She had refused to cut it, even though it came down her back and irritated her while she was hunting. For some unfathomable reason, it was important, almost as if she'd promised she wouldn't.
Her gaze touched the very edge of the horizon, the deep blue that seemed almost translucent.
Everything that physically exists leaves a trace of some kind, she mused. She looked back at the footprints in the sand. Maybe she should not exist, but through a twist of fate, she did, as well as the painful truth that creatures of the night did.
I loved to write songs. These beautiful poems of love, heartbreak, life and misery. I still do. Shame they'll never reach the world as I hoped.
But, life is life and death is well, death. I wish I could still play with Eyes Of The Wolf, my old band. I remember the lullaby I wrote for Jannet when she had nightmares.
'Prr, Prr
Of the Cat on the mat so peaceful
Cheep, Cheep
Of the Bird in the garden so alive
Neigh, Neigh
Of the Horse on the racecourse so rápido, swift
Woof, Woof
Of the Pup in the tulips so playful
But now please my dear Jannet rest
So tomorrow you take life's seguinte test'
I still sing it to her every night. But she can't hear me now. Maybe i'm just not cantar loud enough. Sometimes she hears me sing a few lines. I know because sometimes when I sing she'll start crying. I don't know why. Maybe she misses me. Or maybe I scare her. I don't know. The world is a very strange place
But, life is life and death is well, death. I wish I could still play with Eyes Of The Wolf, my old band. I remember the lullaby I wrote for Jannet when she had nightmares.
'Prr, Prr
Of the Cat on the mat so peaceful
Cheep, Cheep
Of the Bird in the garden so alive
Neigh, Neigh
Of the Horse on the racecourse so rápido, swift
Woof, Woof
Of the Pup in the tulips so playful
But now please my dear Jannet rest
So tomorrow you take life's seguinte test'
I still sing it to her every night. But she can't hear me now. Maybe i'm just not cantar loud enough. Sometimes she hears me sing a few lines. I know because sometimes when I sing she'll start crying. I don't know why. Maybe she misses me. Or maybe I scare her. I don't know. The world is a very strange place
This is a song inspired por Anastasia's Once Upon a December. Also, it's the main song for my novel-in-progress, Imaginary. It's a song in which one of the main characters sings to cheer her up when she's scared. And once I finally get the story posted here, you'll actually see the depth and power and horror of the song.
Written por a friend of mine from school.
Midnight settles, darkness falls
Close your eyes and remember
Fallen anjos always sing
Once upon a December
Blood is flowing and it's warm,
Life's nightmares are like a storm
Demons dancing gracefully
across my memory
Broken borboletas with torn wings
The pain they will always remember
Fallen angels, I hear them sing
Once upon a December.
Written por a friend of mine from school.
Midnight settles, darkness falls
Close your eyes and remember
Fallen anjos always sing
Once upon a December
Blood is flowing and it's warm,
Life's nightmares are like a storm
Demons dancing gracefully
across my memory
Broken borboletas with torn wings
The pain they will always remember
Fallen angels, I hear them sing
Once upon a December.
Scraping at the boughs,
Unknowns becomeths known,
Where shards break across my skin as my mind is shredded into nothing.
How did I get here?
How did I become this?
How do I get out?
Trapped inside a thousand mirrors,
Seeing so many façades,
Which one is me?
Carved up and bleeding,
Happy unconscious,
Pepped up to go?
Nails scratch into my brain,
As I pick apart memories,
For a clue.
An inkling.
An idea.
Lost!
I’m so lost!
Where do I fit in anymore?
Who am I?
And how did I wind up here?
Unknowns becomeths known,
Where shards break across my skin as my mind is shredded into nothing.
How did I get here?
How did I become this?
How do I get out?
Trapped inside a thousand mirrors,
Seeing so many façades,
Which one is me?
Carved up and bleeding,
Happy unconscious,
Pepped up to go?
Nails scratch into my brain,
As I pick apart memories,
For a clue.
An inkling.
An idea.
Lost!
I’m so lost!
Where do I fit in anymore?
Who am I?
And how did I wind up here?
I slammed the car door shut, and faced the school.
"Have a good dia sweetie," Mom said, somewhat hopefully from the drivers seat. Just the words made me want to ball up and cry. She drove away, leaving me in the dust. I would not survive this day.
Not that I deserve to.
I clutched my books to my chest, and tried to keep my eyes fixed on the ground. But I still felt their eyes on me.
"Bitch," they muttered.
"She deserves to die," others said. Didn't they know I want to? Didn't they know how much strength it took to keep breathing? And when I did, it was the everlasting pain that nearly brought me to my death. But I could only hope.
But they didn't know this. They just knew it was my fault. And it was. It was all my fault for what had happened.
And I'd live with this guilt till I die.
*****************************
Please let me know if I should continue this; I don't know if I should.
"Have a good dia sweetie," Mom said, somewhat hopefully from the drivers seat. Just the words made me want to ball up and cry. She drove away, leaving me in the dust. I would not survive this day.
Not that I deserve to.
I clutched my books to my chest, and tried to keep my eyes fixed on the ground. But I still felt their eyes on me.
"Bitch," they muttered.
"She deserves to die," others said. Didn't they know I want to? Didn't they know how much strength it took to keep breathing? And when I did, it was the everlasting pain that nearly brought me to my death. But I could only hope.
But they didn't know this. They just knew it was my fault. And it was. It was all my fault for what had happened.
And I'd live with this guilt till I die.
*****************************
Please let me know if I should continue this; I don't know if I should.
I need to find a name for my character. She is a twelve ano old girl with short, kinda boyish blonde hair. She has a curious and Mischievous personality and a tomboyish attitude. She loves Music, she plays piano and violão, guitarra and can play the Saxaphone really well. She is also very good in school. She has green eyes and likes to draw and write. Her main flaw is when she makes mistakes she has trouble realising that she is only human, and humans make mistakes. I am trying to find a good name but I am having a lot of trouble. Please help!
Introduction
Everybody has a friend. Someone to talk to, to share your secrets with. Someone in this cold cruel world that you could trust. A friend doesn't exactly have to be a person. It could be a pet, a journal-sometimes a banana-or even a rock. A friend doesn't have to be real, either. A character from a story or movie, perhaps? But that's still something everyone can look at, hear, or feel. Well, some of those make-believe friends, not actors, are things only you can look at, hear, and feel. Now those are called imaginary friends, as you probably know. Imaginary friends can be anything you want them to be. An animal, a creature you made up, a monster, or just another human being. There are rare cases when special people have imaginary friends that...are not exactly in the afterlife. But, no matter what, whatever kind of friend it is, that one true friend will always be there for you.
Always.
Always.
Always...
Everybody has a friend. Someone to talk to, to share your secrets with. Someone in this cold cruel world that you could trust. A friend doesn't exactly have to be a person. It could be a pet, a journal-sometimes a banana-or even a rock. A friend doesn't have to be real, either. A character from a story or movie, perhaps? But that's still something everyone can look at, hear, or feel. Well, some of those make-believe friends, not actors, are things only you can look at, hear, and feel. Now those are called imaginary friends, as you probably know. Imaginary friends can be anything you want them to be. An animal, a creature you made up, a monster, or just another human being. There are rare cases when special people have imaginary friends that...are not exactly in the afterlife. But, no matter what, whatever kind of friend it is, that one true friend will always be there for you.
Always.
Always.
Always...