This is a story of an old man, an old and lonely old man,
He survied his surroundings they were just mere just mere objects of no real emotional attachment,
there in his superifical large manison.
He then looked over at the photograph of his younger self,
he was in his early twenties in the photograph, he was kicking himself,
he was young, rich and in love.
Yes, cupid had hit him with the 'arrow of love' she was everything, she was beautiful inside and out, but his parents had forbadded him to see her or to have anything to do with her, or they would take care of her!
But the day that had told him that she was pregante!
He had coldly turned her away that horrible cold witner's night,
He had found out a week later, in the newspapers, that an unidentified
pregnate woman had committed sucide,
the police coldly declared the dead girl a runaway,
or a homeless person, or a drunk junkie.
He knew it was love, he also knew that she was sixteen, but he didn't care he loved her so.
But he called himself back into reality, unfortantly, now instead of the sentimental photograph
that he was caressing in his tired wrinkled hands. There was a gun, and it was loaded as well,
taking the saftey off and looking at the photograph of the man that he used to be, one last time...
BANG!!!!!!!
the old man was no more...
the old man was now dead...
the old man's blood was pooling around his now limp, and cold body
that was laying on the rich plush maroon carpeting...
The old man was named Naraku, and his innocent young love was, Kagome...
A tragic one shot: