This is a story that has been bothering me for the past year, and up until now, I only have the prologue written out. This is my first attempt at a multi-chapter story, so... yeah.
I'm not sure how this story is going to work out, but for now, please tell me your opinion on whether or not I should actually start this story.
Disclaimer: Of course I don't own Fairy Tail.
Dedication: To anyone who may look forward to this, if I choose to continue it.
; Prologue ;
My ribcage burst with pain, as the rattling of my heartbeat shook. Bile lay stuck in my esophagus, as salty fluids trickle down my cheeks. My hands are tightened to a fist, as I shake uncontrollably.
Had I known this school was such a disastrous, psychotic mess, I would not have enrolled here. I would not have brought my friends here, to suffer with me.
His salmon-pink hair was much longer than it had been, when we entered this hellhole. His face, shadowed with fatigue, and his usual cheerfulness had been replaced with misery, and grief. He is tense, even when my head was on his lap. He was alert, paranoid of anything and everything.
His black hair was plastered to his forehead, sweat and metallic blood splattered into it, and along his grey fitting t-shirt, and black jeans. His breathing, shallow; his eyes, glassy. He looks at her brokenly, from the corner of his eye.
To my left, her dark blue hair, spread across all over the dirtied floors, masked with taints of dirt and blood. Her dark blue eyes, that usually blazed with emotions were shut. Her arm had been broken to the point of amputation. Her face is masked with pain, silent tears slide from her cheeks and into the messy pit of her hair.
Near them, his strawberry blonde hair, still spiked. His hair streamed with red blood, masking it off as red highlights. His eyes were closed, silent tears trickling down his cheek, as he slumped against her. Her cotton candy pink hair was swept along her left shoulder - much longer than it had ever been before. Her face was blank, her hands loosely gripping her dagger.
They were standing side by side, panting harshly as they leant against their swords firmly planted into the soil. Her pale cheeks had splatters of blood, her scarlet hair a mess as it tumbles down her torn black t-shirt. Beside her, he stands emotionless, his eyes hard as they roam the surrounding area. His clothes are torn, much like hers.
What had become of us? Would we ever be capable of living normal lives again?
We've seen more deaths than regular teenagers.
We've seen our friends fall one after another.
We've done the unspeakable, in order to survive.
We are lost teenagers, in a mysterious school, shut off from the rest of Japan.