p a p e rAlmost frightened by the last two lines, Dexter snapped the notebook shut.p a p e r3 years ago in Fan Fiction
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Hang me by the fire,
watch me as I slaughter.
The redhead seperated each word in his head, trying to bring himself to understanding. Why had his rival selected such violent words? He almost hoped this was just part of a school assignment, but who was he to care about Mandark's life? As far as he was concerned, he didn't deserve any sympathy whatsoever.
Only, he couldn't help but wonder what the dark haired teen felt everday. What Dexter saw everyday was a scowling expression and the occasional snicker. Hm, perhaps he was wrong and this was someone else's? No, it couldn't be. He recognized the chicken scratch clearly as he examined over it once more.
Besides, it was obvious no one can carry just anger around for 10 years. It was more, the scientist noted. Maybe his rival was going through much more than just lube.
Dexter adjusted his glasses, planning to get more on this. After their date, of
r o b o tHe looked at himself in the mirror. Memories of only pain filled his head. He'd never known the feeling of true love. Only sorrow, and rejection. As he gazed at his reflection in the cracked, blurry mirror, he observed his eyes. The eyes that were once filled with happiness. The eyes that once saw things in light. The eyes that once looked at the world a different way.r o b o t3 years ago in Fan Fiction
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As he lie in the cold cellar, the raven haired man felt his heart beat faster. He could almost feel the rough metal pressing against his lips, his teeth. He wanted to scream at that moment. Damon bit his lower lip, and emotions that he had never felt before took full control. He broke down.
For the first time in his life, he felt vulnerable. Everything he had forever locked away in his heart, had suddenly reappeared.
"One hundred and fifty years," he whispered into his hands as he sobbed silently, "and I have yet to escape." At one point, he thought there would be a chance to make himself a life worth living. That disapp
Dancing ShoesTogether, apart, spin and bow. Lift, lower, jump once, point twice.Dancing Shoes4 years ago in Fan Fiction
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A pair of pale, worn blue shoes danced to the music of their life. Made from the softest of Faerie silks, they were padded on the soles and toes slightly flattened instead of a point. There were scuff marks on the sides and point, and a single thread was coming loose on the lefts stitching. However, these characteristics did not make them sad, nor stop. It made them proud, made them want to dance all the more.
A waltz, now. The shoes moved fluidly, imagining a manlier pair across from them no, not imagining, remembering. It had been so long since they had danced with a partner, all they had now was each other and their memories. Their partners had once come every other day, and they would dance, and then rest and simply be. Those days had stopped abruptly, without warning. One day those glossy black shoes were there, tap dancing or swinging the pale blue slips of cloth through the air