lucielives
You deserved it. The beatings, the pain, the humiliation, the bullying, the loneliness. The cuts in your arms, then finally the one that slit your wrist. You were different, after all. You loved men where others loved women. You were, as your father said, a disgusting disgrace. Now you're not anymore. Now you're gone for good.
the smell of fresh blood, tasty, hot, young. i'll eat it, i'll drink it - mine.
It's maddening, the urge. Kill, feed, discard. I remember I used to be one of them. I used to be human.
I only have half a heart, half a soul, half a mind. The other half is owned by the other one; he whispers in the dark, tells me tales of blood and pain and breaking bones, innocent flesh bound in shackles to be destroyed and devoured.
The Third zone is the most dangerous. It's not like here, in First, where people can shoot you on the street, where you can die of some infection that didn't even exist two days ago. In Third, everything is clean. Everything is in order. It's the intrigue that kills. Death hides behind the faces of your friends. You never know who will want something you own enough to kill for it.
following instructions has never been your strong point; you used to lie with your eyes wide open when you were supposed to nap after lunch in kindergarden, at school you never managed to sit still till the end of the period, and now there's a guy pointing a gun at your head and expecting you to do exactly as your told... who will you listen to, him or his heart that knows it would be betrayal of everything you've ever believed in?
Something was wrong with the configuration of the program. That much was clear. Because he was sprouting additional limbs. Hair was growing in places where there shouldn't have been any. Just what exactly had gone wrong, he didn't know. And there was no way of stopping it.
She was falling, falling, falling... There was no impact, though, nothing like the bone-shattering crash she had been expecting. There was a splash instead; in the brief moment before she blanked out, she wondered how that was possible - concrete did not splash, did not open up and swallow you up like water. Something was wrong with this picture - had they changed the rules again?!
It was a split second, a bolt of green light. He saw his life flash before his eyes. The Boy Who Lived was going to die - finally!, he thought. He has been waiting too long, ever since that decision he made at King's Cross after talking with Dumbledore, the decision he HAD to make because it was expected of him, it was needed. Suddenly another body in front of him - shielding, protecting, sacrificing a life Harry himself had saved years ago. Then Draco was dead - and with him all the light that had been left in Harry's life, after everyone he loved had been killed in the Third Wizarding War, everyone but Draco. Now there was merely Darkness. He lifted his wand and everything went green.
I thought I'd never do it again, yet here I am, seeking comfort in another's embrace, trusting enough to let down my guard for a blissful moment or two. There's nothing sweeter... until they stab you in the back and then you're dead. There's no one one should trust on this godforsaken planet.
The advice was to forget. How could I, when every cell in my body remembers you, the way your skin melted into mine, the way your breathing tickled my face, the way you moved against and inside me when we did what certainly was forbidden. We had been one too long, so now that they had cut us apart with scalpels, so that we could "lead normal lives", I feel like I'll never stop bleeding. Incomplete.
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