I tried so hard to get as far away from the ring as possible. So very hard. The farther I walk the worse the pain gets. I am ashamed to say that, I Bilbo Baggins of Bag End, has thought of taking the ring back and slaughtering anyone who gets in my way. Even my own nephew and heir Frodo.
While I sleep the murmerings get stronger and stronger. Sometimes when I wake I feel as of I must take the ring again. To kill for it. This only makes my resolve stronger. I must stay away for his sake. I don't know what would happen if I came near the ring once more. Nothing good I can assume.
I spend my time recording thoughts and feelings, working on my book, and praying that dear Frodo is okay. I've seen Nazgul flying around, unnerving my senses. The orcs are in over drive capturing creatures and torturing them senseless. They've turned on each other accusing one other of petty things. It's a good sign. A sign that we have a chance. The division is a good if a time comes when they need to fight they will be so weary of each other they will not trust each other in battle.
I feel my mind slipping away from me. I feel the rings vicious grip on my mind. Cold and slimy. Whispering sweet nothingness in my ear. Even this far away it still has a hold on to me.
I feel the worse pain for young Frodo. My only dream is that Frodo and I can live happily somewhere quiet and secluded.
But alas this is only the wishful thinking of an aged hobbit.
Hope you all enjoyed this. I know I should update my other stories but this just appeared in my head while listening to black veil brides in the end. I don't know how it relates to the story or why I thought of lord of the rings when listening to it but apparently my mind thinks of weird things sometimes.
Review please
-_-Aphrodite Child