aerivyr
Do you want my advice, dear? Run away. Run away from everything and everyone until you can find something that makes you happy and doesn't leave that sore lump in your throat. Leave your family, your house, your life, because your time is running out and dammit, so should you be.
Heart like iron, weighing me down, quintuple my body weight. Miss Atlas, Miss Atlas, how can you hold it on your shoulders? Miss Atlas, Miss Atlas, can I pretty please have your autograph on the list of people I've hurt? Miss Atlas? Please?
My birth came when I was more or less ten years old. I would say rebirth, but I really am not the same person, so I was not reborn, but born. Born to a girl with too much sarcasm and too much negativity who ruined my life and made me grow up. She killed my green.
The standard route was stupid. It would be clogged with people, their eyes tired. Like Route 66. The best way would be the alternate route, the road less travelled by, if you will. Take the alternate route. Go out there, get off the computer, and make a difference in the world (says the shameless hypocrite).
She barely glanced at the stick as she swung it between her fingers. 'So.'
'So.'
'How've you been?'
Round and round. The stick spun and spun, speeding and speeding, until it was just a blur.
'Good. You?'
The spikes on his neck alarmed her slightly. He looked pretty hardcore, like he played in a metal band or something. The choker, adorned with those horrific spikes, circled his neck like a noose. His face was pale, his eyes were dead. He wore a leather jacket with ripped sleeves.
And then I heard his ringtone. Bad Romance.
She looked so serene, floating there in the stream. Lilies adorned her hair. Her face was set in a happy, lazy smile. But she was dead.She was Ophelia.
The incessant chatter was distracting. My true purpose... I flexed my fingers, dismayed. My true purpose was lost in the babbling of these mere fools!
There was a great divide between those who were ordinary and those who were not.
Those who were not still are.
Those who were ordinary are not.
He was a stroller. A strider. Each step was twice the length of hers, and she struggled to keep up. He had long legs. Or maybe it was just his anger fuelling him?
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