A lone, female figure stood hidden behind the towering brick building. Fungus and insects covered every square inch of the structure. But did she care? Of course not. Not after what she's gone through. Not after the things she's seen. This is what she deserved. This is how she should be living. So she will, she'll walk down the rodent ridden allies and streets with her head held high. This was her town, her home. And it shall ever be. Because it's what she deserves. She made it what it is now, so she shall perish along with it. This…. this is what she deserves….
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Rocking back in forth, back in forth. Nothing to see here, keep walking. Back and forth, back and forth. Though he's standing seemingly still, he's rocking. Rocking for what exactly? For everything. For the pain in his head, in his heart. The pain he feels every second of every step. Yeah, he looks tough. He seems to rule this little shack of a town. A couple turns toward him on the dark street which he now rocks. Though all they see is walking. Back and forth, back and forth. He doesn't have to look into their eyes to know what they're thinking. Because he hears it. He feels it. They think he's scum. He doesn't deserve the ground he walks on, nor the atmosphere he slices through as his steady pace increases. But they're right aren't they? He's scum, he's worthless. No one cares. No one wants to. Back and forth, back and forth. But his eyes are looking straight in front of him. Not once do they drop to shamefully look at his shoes. He might be scum, and this town may hate him for it, but this is his town. This is his only home. If any… back and forth, back and forth…. Because he does nothing but rock, for his heart ache's…. back and forth, back and forth….
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Crouching down she waits. They'll come, they always do. What is it with the scent of a slayer? What makes them so addicted to it? Doesn't matter, she supposes; it helps get the job done. For that's all it really is. No more is it for the safety of the world. She was screwed over by the world too many times to care for it. This is nothing but a routine. Her routine. The routine she's been going through for the past- past what? How long has she felt this way anyhow? Maybe she's always felt this way. It's hard, you know? To have to live up to expectations like the ones they put on her. They wanted her to be happy, strong, loving, caring. All at the same time. Well, sorry folks, the freedom is gone. She doesn't do this for the opportunity to go home and congratulate herself. She does it because she has nothing else to live for. She grew up with this routine, and she'll die doing it.
A small scratch on a pebble awakened her from her thoughts. Hmm, this one isn't so young. Wonderful, another challenge. To be the slayer or the slayee. She'll most likely die from this routine. But she'll do it fighting. Because this is her town. She's kept fighting for it for this long…. so her routine continues….
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Rocking back in forth, back in forth. Nothing to see here, keep walking. Back and forth, back and forth. Though he's standing seemingly still, he's rocking. Rocking for what exactly? For everything. For the pain in his head, in his heart. The pain he feels every second of every step. Yeah, he looks tough. He seems to rule this little shack of a town. A couple turns toward him on the dark street which he now rocks. Though all they see is walking. Back and forth, back and forth. He doesn't have to look into their eyes to know what they're thinking. Because he hears it. He feels it. They think he's scum. He doesn't deserve the ground he walks on, nor the atmosphere he slices through as his steady pace increases. But they're right aren't they? He's scum, he's worthless. No one cares. No one wants to. Back and forth, back and forth. But his eyes are looking straight in front of him. Not once do they drop to shamefully look at his shoes. He might be scum, and this town may hate him for it, but this is his town. This is his only home. If any… back and forth, back and forth…. Because he does nothing but rock, for his heart ache's…. back and forth, back and forth….
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Crouching down she waits. They'll come, they always do. What is it with the scent of a slayer? What makes them so addicted to it? Doesn't matter, she supposes; it helps get the job done. For that's all it really is. No more is it for the safety of the world. She was screwed over by the world too many times to care for it. This is nothing but a routine. Her routine. The routine she's been going through for the past- past what? How long has she felt this way anyhow? Maybe she's always felt this way. It's hard, you know? To have to live up to expectations like the ones they put on her. They wanted her to be happy, strong, loving, caring. All at the same time. Well, sorry folks, the freedom is gone. She doesn't do this for the opportunity to go home and congratulate herself. She does it because she has nothing else to live for. She grew up with this routine, and she'll die doing it.
A small scratch on a pebble awakened her from her thoughts. Hmm, this one isn't so young. Wonderful, another challenge. To be the slayer or the slayee. She'll most likely die from this routine. But she'll do it fighting. Because this is her town. She's kept fighting for it for this long…. so her routine continues….