Tyxeros
"Boom" he said as he pulled the trigger. But the gun didn't go off. He tried again, fear and confusion obvious on his face. This wasn't supposed to happen. He kept pulling the trigger, hearing only a quiet click, and turned to the side, looking past the spotlight. The audience was definitely judging him.
I'd prefer to die painfully and spectacularly than have my brain stop working in my sleep. Once I'm gone the pain won't matter, but my impression on others will linger on through stories and memories.
Her hair was styled in the usual fashion, piled high on top of her head. A few strands clung to her face with the dampness from the morning rain, and the stray hairs that she could never seem to tame were flattened in the light drizzle. She'd never looked so beautiful.
It's genetic they said, there's nothing they could've done they said. Well I didn't want this thing growing inside of me, and there's no way those quack doctors are going to help me get rid of it. Most of them think I should /keep/ this thing.
I'll get rid of this parasite tomorrow.
Possession. I have not been in control of myself for a very long time, but I have come to accept it. I watch through eyes that don't move when I want them to, and felt things I had no desire to feel. But I've lived much longer than I wouldv'e otherwise. I like to think it's a pretty good trade-off.
I like to think.
I won't very soon.
There is no such thing as an accident. Everything you've done, everything you've touched and changed and broken, it was all because you wanted it to. Deep down, everyone wants to make an impact, we just don't like to admit that we really don't care what kind.