(from the author) Hi, this is Daniel, not an impostor. why would you think that? Iv'e been writing these story for a few years now and if your familiar with my writing you know that English has not always been my friend nor has grammar. well that's why iv'e been doing this silly thing for so long, I've really gotten better over the years. when i was in school i had a complex learning disorder that made reading and writing very difficult for me and I'm proud to say that those days are far behind me but i still have along way to go. if you like these storys, or don't like them, have some asinine comment or want to talk about the capriciousness of existence and the fragility of life, PLEAS write a comment, i want to hear what you have to say and i do so love it when people say nice things because my ego is that dependent on nice people like you. check out some of my other story's if you want, and don't pay any attention to the mountains of spelling errors, DO NOT LOOK AT THEM OR THEY WILL TAKE YOU. and that pretty much it. and i don't own soul eater no matter how hard i pray to the old gods, its just not going to happen.
And hay, thank you SO MUCH..
(Years ago)
Maka stood next to her dear friend on the marvel staircase of the DWMA, her fingers loosely intertwined with Crona's. Maka glanced over at her glazed expression, fixed on the horizon, her mouth open so very slightly, her breath only a whisper. She dared not speak, afraid that the emotions welling inside of her would over take her, but she needed very desperately to speak, but she knew that she didn't have the courage, she couldn't bring herself to say what very well may have been her last chance to say, she saw a car approaching, Crona's eyes were still pointed forward and to the sky. Maka bit her lip, the moment of such sorrow was nigh. Maka lowered her head and heard the squealing of the breaks as the cab slowed in front of the curb. Crona blinked, casting her hallow gaze to the cab, she frowned as she felt Maka's grip tighten around her own, and for a moment Crona hung her head low next to Maka's "don't be sad." she said, which had the opposite effect on Maka that was intended. The tears pushed closer to exiting their red, irritated ducts. "ill be better when I get back.." she drifted off. Maka's voice cracked as she lowly spoke "Crona I-" she was enraptured by the voice of a young man. "are we ready to go?" Kid stood by the passenger door of the car. Crona looked over at him, and nodded. She looked at Maka. "Maka?" she tilted her head forward to her. Maka rapped her arms around her tightly, Crona returned the embrace. "your my best friend.." she said, Crona nodded. "and you were my first." kid watched silently and patently, he knew the pain it would cause to rush their goodby, and in the end their final destination wasn't going anywhere. The embrace loosened, they held each other at arms length, Maka still held what she wanted to say. "promise me your going to come back?" Crona nodded "i promise." there was one last moment of silence. Crona turned toward Kid, she took a step forward, she felt Maka's hand still tightly held to hers as she took another half step Maka stayed in place. One final step and her hand was still held tightly and stretched to her side to where Maka stood holding her hand. "i have to go now Maka." there eyes met. "please don't." Maka mouthed silently, tears starting to spill out and stream down her face. Crona,s own tears worked away at her composure, but as maka's friend she was determined not to let Maka see her cry. "I'm sorry Maka. Good bye.." their fingers slowly slipped apart. Maka's arm fell to her side as she silently wept, she was supposed to be the strong one, the person that made Crona unafraid, and here she was balling her eyes out watching her go. Crona descended the stairs, her head hung low with grief and face twisted in morbid proportions. She made her way to the car, kid opened the door for her. She turned to Maka one last time, waving to her, but Maka did not wave back, she doubled over with a fit of sobs. Crona turned her head to Kid, who looked on sympatheticly. "she'll be okay. I promise we'll keep a good eye on her." kid assured her, Crona nodded and sat into the back seat, she did not feel asured. She looked up to see Soul descending the staircase toward Maka. Soul and Crona's eyes met briefly. He narrowed his eyes and glowered at her showing his teeth. Crona's expression showed confusion, as kid shut the door she watched through the window as soul placed his hand on her back, he was saying something but she couldn't hear what it was. Maka looked at him with a red tear streaked face. Kid sat in the front seat and closed his door. Only a second later the driver started down the long drive. Crona let out a breath as she passed them by, and her friend left her view. She placed her face in her palms and finally began to cry. Kid was silent, he couldn't help but feel partially responsible for all the grief, but this had to be done, for Crona's own sake, for everyone, for death city.
(ten years later)
Maka pushed a sturdy gray plastic cart down the vacant isles of the library, judging by the thickness and curios titles of each of the books they were presumably interesting, but not important to this story, the books were merely part of the narrative that you are now analyzing far to thoroughly, seriously, dial it back just a bit. The weals of the cart squeaked, they always squeaked, she always said that she was going to fix that but she never did. It was not hot or cold in the library, it was a book friendly neutral but one could guise by Maka's heavy trench coat that perhaps she felt it was a little to cold, perhaps she always wore this coat. The gray wool tail of the coat hung past her white porcelain knees. Her firm gloved hand pushed the cart ever closer to its destination, it was a nondescript destination within the vast unending rows of the labyrinth of bookshelf's but she knew the precise location and in an instant upon arrival she stopped. Her stern emerald eyes glanced down at the books in front of her, she gathered them and set them in the places that they belonged, she may have read some of them, some she had read all the way through, but she recognized each of their names, she knew their authors and what they were about, some in a vague seance others in full comprehension. In a split second she could feel movement, she felt it in the souls of her boots, subtle as a pin drop. She could feel the vibrations in the roots of her scalp under her short blond hair. In a quick snap of movement she focused down the hallway squinting across the vast distance. At the end she could see a man, he was thin, with black hair, his suit was also black, so black that it swallowed the light around it spitting out a gray aura around his frame. She knew few people who were so sinister, yet so sharply dressed as he. They stood still, both in silent understanding of one anothers presence. Maka set the last book in its place and locked her eyes back on the slender-ish man in the black suit with his perfect black hair with one imperfect white smudge off to the corner. She started his way at a librarians pace, quick, stiff and commanding of her surroundings, she knew him, but yet who was he in her fortress of knowledge? She moved faster than any mortal man, the space and time of the library bending to her will. There was a booming echo as she came and stood inches from her guest, an echo that spoke for her, it said 'I am here.' or 'I am everywhere.' quite possibly both at the same time. the guest opened his mouth and said..."hay, I brought your lunch." he lifted a paper sack with her name written in marker on the brown exterior. Maka smiled pleasantly. "oh thanks kid, that's so sweet of you." there was a brief silence as kid lowered the bag. "yes well, hungry librarians are bad news for students." he said jokingly yet in a way they both knew he wasn't joking but she decided to feel entertaind. Maka graciously took the bag. Kid's smile was always sublet, as were the range of his emotions most of the time, he was generally a reserved man although his fiery, fervent, some would say worryingly obsessive passion for symmetry, efficiency and immaculance was the only thing that would rattle forth emotions within him of such anger, sorrow, elated joy at its best or depressive fits of sobbing at its worst. Today he seemed in control of his mental facultys, unless Maka were to spill a bag of unsorted marbles on the floor in witch case he would spend the rest of the day sorting them by size and shape and color and perhaps weight and glass composition while murmuring to himself and examining each for hours. There was no dumping of marbles however. They walked with each other to the library office where Maka kept her things. "it was very nice of soul to just come by and drop your lunch off like that, he must really care." Kid said, Maka briefly paused, she nodded "yeah." in a way she said this to asure herself if anyone. That's what kid expected but he knew that it was not the answer she wanted to give him. "yeah, I guise he has the time anyway, and he dose care" she smiled, a smile that slowly evaporated "he cares..." kid did not smile at all, his gaze was one of Pitty, even if she hated that look, even if she would say nothing about hating that look.. he made an awkward swallow. "so, no luck finding a job for him?" Maka shook her head, kid was silent and so was she but kid could feel as it went on it became an angry silence. "tuna salad." Kid said. Maka looked up at him with a renewed expression "what?" kid pointed at the paper sack on her desk "he said it was tuna salad. Said it was you favorite." Maka made a noise in her throat of a raspy still born laugh. And smiled with an odd humor only they understood. "yeah..last week he said grilled cheese was my favorite." kid chortled as if to say 'yes I remember' there was a silence between them, they shared the same smile that didn't quite match the emotions a smile was supposed to portray, they both knew what the other was thinking but this was not the time not the place to speak of it. "maybe we can go get dinner some time. You don't think he would mind do you? Just you and I?" Maka lifted her eyebrows with surprise. "sure kid. I'm sure we can work something out." he nodded in response and looked away. "good, good..i have to go now Maka, enjoy your lunch." "thanks kid." with a last glance up at her he departed, silently walking down the rows with a dutiful posture.
(?)
my mind is a fog of half formed thought and aimless run on ideas.
I understand nothing of what is happening around me, I see only blurs and colors and I can hear
only a faint squeak. I am holding something in my hand, thick, made of steal, wrapped in cloth? Strips? Strips of cloth..that's right. If there is anything I understand it is that I like the way it fits in my hand, as well as the slick and wet and sometimes...sticky feeling that washes over my knuckles, between my fingers and in the creases of my palm. My hand dose not slicken, I do not loosen my grip- NO...no.. it becomes stronger. The color is red, it is so often red, and black...and black...black..
the random stabs of pain in what I can loosely recognize as my own body, they become exhilarating but slowly grind into excruciating pain, I can feel my eyes bulging in my pounding head, and swaths of foam washing between my teeth and down my face with a taste in my mouth that I cannot place nor can I escape, I don't want to see my reflection, I must be something truly awful. But maybe I'm dead, maybe iv been dead for very long time or maybe that life I vaguely remember was a dream and this is life, this is what real life is. Some times I think that is true, sometimes I wish I would die or that I could live again or start over in a life that is not this, I can pray only for a peaceful oblivion in the sea of blackness.
(Death City Active Duty Apartments)
She couldn't have anything to complain about today, he thought so surely. Soul had all of his bases covered and everything squared away. Sense he woke up at noon he only had four hours to clean up their small apartment but yu know, time just get away from a man with so busy a schedule. You have to have breakfast and check your emails, you have to watch the news, because how else are you going to know what happening in the world? and then you got to take the occasional obligatory glance at Face Book, Patty tagged him in three photos, THREE so it would have been rude to just ignore that. That's it, time just got away with him and she was just going to have to understand that. After he threw the empty beer bottles from the night before safely onto the sidewalk outside he turned his attentions to the dishes. They had an agreement, sense soul did not currently hold a job it was his responsibility, Maka was lucky that he was such a responsible boyfriend.. after he washed them, and by wash I mean he ran some hot water over them and just got the flakes of food off of them, he dried them and put them away, easy. He turned his attentions then to his personal grooming, he put put on some fresh clothes and washed his hair in the sink because showers are for dorks. Wow all of that before a four PM? A buisy day, he hoped that Maka wouldn't give him any grief over just how difficult her job was, what a bother you know?
Maka walked in two hours after her usual time of arrival. Soul sat on the couch enjoying a bag of Doritos and playing Call Of Honor. She walked past him silently. He watched her only moving his eyes as she trudged through the apartment. He wanted to say something like 'where have you been.' but even a man as dim as him could read the expression on the corner of her face and so he remained silent.
Maka's eyes were focused on a brown paper bag on the table, a certain brown paper bag that soul was supposed to bring to her during lunch. She blinked thinking back to earlier that day when Kid brought her lunch. But yet it was sitting right here. She took a few steps forward and grabbed the sack with a crushing grip and pored the contents onto the table. She stared at it, ham and Swiss and a half eaten bag of chips. She lifted her head, her gaze burned through the wall. She turned her head to him, he was already looking at her. "do you even care?" she asked simply. Soul seemed surprised by the question, he answered with reflex and instinct, but not with any thought. "yeah- uh, yes..i do." he said trying to assure her, he stood rather uncomfortably taking the sentiment of a few steps toward her. "whats wrong?" Maka looked at him for a very long time, she didn't say anything, the look on her face though said a lot.
Maka closed the bedroom door and sat down at her desk, she turned on the lamp and put her face in her hands. Why did anyone think that this was the person she was destined to call her own? What did all the others see that she did not? He was once a capable young man. What happened to him? What changed when he became a death scythe? He was supposed to become stronger, to be more motivated, instead he became worse than her father, he didn't even try, maybe he did love her but he was the same as he was in high school, no cares, no motivation, no plans. He sat around the house while she worked, her name was on the leis and on more than one occasion she helped him pay off his credit card debts. Just because they graduated together, that they were partners in school and were close friends, everyone expected them to get together and stay together, it seemed to her that maybe she was the only one who realized that was all wrong. She knew all those years ago that she should have said what she needed, should have told Crona the truth, gods know, she could have waited, if she had only said what she needed, she would have wated as long as it took, but she just stood there and watched her leave. "oh Maka, what a fool...oh Maka..." she would say to herself. Then she would remember the letters. The occasional mail she would get from Crona. Letters and poems, she would wish Maka well and tell her things that were on her mind, she would tell her not to worry and that she would be home soon, some times she wondered if Crona knew how long it had actually been. Two years ago the letters stopped, no matter how many letters Maka wrote to her she never got a reply. Time to time she would read the letters and she would feel a whole lot better, but at the same time unmeasurably worse. She sat again, tonight reading the letters. "god, Crona...where are you?" she leaned back in her seat "ill do anything..just.." she fell silent, unable to utter another word.