Title:Perspective
Author: Chris/Antarprince
Rating: R to be safe
Pairing: None persay, it's Implied and if I tell it spoils it
Disclaimer: If I owned QAF you think it'd be over?
A/N: Ok guys this is technically my first Official sic, inspired by "Helena" My Chemical Romance.
I could tell the point of View, but it may ruin it. I'll spill after you read if you can't guess.
Disclaimer:Don't own QAF. If I did Justin would gone to Prom w/ Hobbs
You know, it's amazing what death can teach you about life. Most people view death as a morbid experience and in most cases they're probably right an in all honesty you probably agree, not that I blame you really.
Still, there are things that death can teach you. These things usually change ones prospective of themselves and even the world around them. It's a fucked up thing really, that you have to lose someone to learn. I don't really know the point, but it's done to you in life on a smaller scale as well as you grow up. When your little, if you don't clean your room you get your toys taken. In school, if you don't make the grade you can't play football. The list goes on and on...
Maybe it's fate's version of the term tough love? A kind of 'ok if you won't learn this yourself I'll do this to make you.'
I don't know about most people, but taking things from me never really gave me a insensitive to learn nothing. It mostly just pissed me off. Well, whatever the fuck it is, as I said I never really got it- till today.
The things death teaches... I give a burdened sigh at the thought. The things death teaches, things I wish I'd learned sooner. Maybe then I wouldn't be standing here in the cold, stalking the shadows. 'No, you'd be standing in the crowd freezin' your balls off instead', a contradictory voice states and I scoff at it.
When I was in high school there was this boy I used to have class with. He was about as out as you can get I'd say. Hell he even brought his boyfriend to the prom. He used to sit in class behind me, real artistic type. He used to draw me as I worked- the few times I did. He was real covert about it, always trying to be inconspicuous about it. I'd even toy with him, shift so he'd have a better view, Smile at him on a rare occasion.
What did I care? He was just a little fagot right? Watching as they lower the casket I could kick myself. All I want now is to see him drawing in Lit class, walking down the hall with his friend... See him in detention again... I made his life hell and now I can't make it better.
An Icy breeze picks up, and I turn up my coat turning to walk away.
"So long Taylor..."
And goodnight.