In 1820 a girl the age of seventeen committed a mass homicide of her village, leaving nothing but ash's in her wake. Not a child nor woman was spared, and the black thickening aura around her was so powerful, it is said that.. The words continued to screech at the black haired girl with bright blonde highlights in her bangs; her beautiful sky blue hues darkening with disgust.

To a fro every book she read stated the exact same theory. That the one seventeen-year-old killed all those people. The book's words stayed with her, echoing in her mind. 1890, homicide, insane.. Things like this never left the girl, but she didn't feel guilt. In her own mind she new none of these nightmares were true. Drumming her black fingernails gently on the milky white library table, she grew impatient. Leaning an elbow down on the table, she cupped her chin in it gently, thoughts continuing in her mind.

"But if I stated that I..No, if I stated that..No, because they wouldn't think I wasn't around..No, that wouldn't make sense. But what if..What if I had a written diary of some sort..Do I? I think; although I'm not sure..was it burned? Did he steal it?"

The questions continued in her mind loosely, sometimes the answers came to her quickly, and sometimes they didn't come at all. Sitting up abruptly, she brushed her gray sweats gently; making sure no dust had gathered. Black square framed glasses were positioned in front of her blue hues, making the delicate beauty of them even more radiant then before. The thin but tight sweater she wore was made out of barely any cloth, and it was colored black.

Halfway zipped down it revealed a dark blue low cut top, and her necklace hung loosely down into it. Around her neck was wound a silver string, and attached to it was the three inch diamond. Inside the diamond; a black mist twirled around gently, creasing the insides of the diamond. Sighing gently, she walked over to the bookshelf that was seemingly missing a spare book. Placing the book in gently, she sighed once more as her blue hues continued to search for things that had happened after 1820.

A few stray subjects here and there caught her attention, but they never stuck. Not until two words caught her eye. Misumi Higashikuni. Her fingers slowly traced the outer ness of the books spine, and she grabbed it hastily, hoping no one would spot her checking it out. The book was no larger then her hand, and the pages were worn down to where it would be dangerous to even pinch them. Tucking the book into her sweater pocket, she walked towards the door of the old library.

Only stray people could be found here and there, seeing as though the old place was of historical value. She stepped out of the door gently, twisting her golden ring with the black gem around gently with her thumb.

Soft pink lips spread apart to cough as she waited for her closest friend, Darren to pick her up. Reaching her black fingernails up to her black glasses, she took them off gently and folded them, tucking them into her pocket along with the notebook. Her Sky blue hues darted around; making sure no fan girls were anywhere near her.
"That's the last thing I need..A bunch of girls rippling through my clothes to try and see what they can get a hold of."

Just last month the black haired girls favorite glasses were stolen, and she'd been outraged. Fan girls were nothing but trouble, and it was much better to just stay away from them; although her high school was littered with them.

Smiling warmly at a passing couple, the girl tapped her foot gently on the curb of the sidewalk. She almost wanted to go back into the old library, wanting to escape the coolness of the early night. Instead, she continued to tap her foot and inhaled gently, only exhaling at a greater rate.

Placing a hand inside her pocket, black fingernails traced over the contents of the books spine; then it's cover. She wanted so much just to rip it open and start reading; though she new exactly what the book held inside it. All the information she already knew, every line; every word. Page numbers that went up to 1,983. She knew that, as well. It wasn't her fault that she loved to know everything, honestly; it wasn't. A grin appeared on her light pink lips, knowing what thoughts were slowly drifting into her mind.
"But this time..It's not my fault..It's not my fault because; I'm the one whom wrote it."