alliethebfg
All she did was talk, blab on about her day, her life, her boyfriend, her car, her house, her ring. The ring, the bleeding ring. Chatter chatter chatter about the stupid piece of metal, the circle of silver that should be on my finger.
Skyscrapers, ridiculous beasts that flooded the streets of New York, Toronto, London. The buildings, gray against the deep blue sky, concrete like the streets they lived on; disgusting works of art.
Used and abused; abused and used. It was like addition, simple math; multiplication, harder but the same. No matter which way it was said, Charlie's situation was the same. It was inevitable, unbelievable, but he dealt with it.
Patience was a bitch, a selfish little brat who bit at your nerves until you literally wanted to kick her in her godforsaken ass. Prudence knew it first hand, and had dealt with her sister's shenanigans her entire life.
The memory was terrible, a raunchy blur of drunken movement, ripped sheets and broken lamps. There was yelling, screaming, slapping; a brutal flashback of the night prior.
This place was a nightmare, a disgusting mess of dirty clothes, dead bugs and chocolate wrappers. Dust covered every inch of his room, but there were no means of escape, as he had no where to go.
His fucking eyes. Couldn't stand them, wanted them gone. He'd rather wear a mask then show his ugly, dirty-brown coloured eyes to the world. No one deserved it, not even the lowest of the low. The stupid pair of cross-eyes that he'd been given, they made him angry, fucking nuts.
The nun's black robes were heated under the blazing Arizonian sun. She stood under the arch of the opening of the church, wanting to run, but knew that if she took one step there would be no turning back.
The line on the floor marked a line between the two halves of the room. One was for Annie, whose side was decorated with fine art pieces upon the cream-coloured shelves, while her brother John's was dirty, shabby, and lacking in any sort of decoration.