Hello lovely minions and friends alike! Yush, I, The Great Cheshakyatto, has picked up her pen and began writing again! Super updates soon. I finally found my little muse, hiding somewhere far away for a while to take a break. And now that it's back, the ideas are flowing so fast I barely keep up! Well, here's a little Bleach fic that popped inside my mind. Thanks a bunch for reading and don't forget to review!

I walk down the trodden streets, singing the Dango song under my breath. My bare feet make light splashes echo over the rough and worn pavement.

"Dango, dango, dango," I whisper to the catchy tune. It rings eerily in the silence.

The street I begin to skip down is deserted, just like most of the small town.

Actually, not like most of the town, all of the town.

Ever since the rebellion, nobody lives in the destroyed town.

Except for me.

People drive through occasionally, rarely, but when they do, they drive as quickly as possible to desert the small town I call home.

It's always overcast here, and usually raining too.

Right now, though, no rain drops all because they just had, leaving small puddles for my bare feet.

I live here all alone, no body else.

Those who see me when they drive through think I'm a just a ghost girl in a small yellow-ish white sundress, refusing to leave, skipping and singing my Dango song for all eternity.

I might as well be.

With my albino skin, and very little sunlight, I'm lighter than a sheet of paper. This contrasts even more with my dark multi-colored hair and matching wide eyes.

That's why I like it here, in this little town of nobody.

I'm an outcast. A weirdo.

Freak.

Even before, when things were happy, and the sun actually shined it's brilliant rays down onto the town, I could see them. See their faces as they called out to me, "Freak!"

"Go home and cry to your family! Oh wait, you don't have any of those do you?" Then they would laugh.

And laugh.

And laugh.

And run.

And scream.

And leave.

Me, just a small tiny little girl, all on my own.

Even when the rebellion happened, and when it was over and they were gone, they wouldn't accept me.

Who would?

Loneliness is my only... Well, everything.

But it's better off that way.

At least, that's what I tell myself. And if you tell yourself something enough, it'll be true, right...?

My ears perk at a low, almost inaudible sound.

Rough hands clasp over my mouth and drag me back.