Disclaimer: I own nothing, not DOTM, not Tymmie, not even these shoes I'm
wearing, as they are borrowed from a friend who stole my beloved cheetah
Converse All Stars (I actually have quite a collection) it's a funny story
actually....
BUD: No one cares, and as your muse, I recommend you start writing the actual story.
Nymbis: Oh yeah, Anyways, I own nothing except the character Kylie.
Why Must We Live Like This?
By: Nymbis
Summary: Probable One-Shot. Tymmie comforts a girl he just crossed over.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Why was she always in the corner like that?
Why doesn't she ever talk?
All she ever does is just cry and mope in her little corner of nothing.
She's a weird one. Karyl told me right off not to cross her over because of that. He said that depressed ones were no fun to rob hope from. All they'd do is whimper.
But no, I had to be the big man.
I had to be the one to prove himself to Stanton.
And now we were stuck with a crier.
Oh yeah, she's looking at me now, probably thinking I feel bad for making her life go from horrible to worse. WRONG! Ya, girlie! See me? I don't care! I never will care, I don't want to care.
I can't care.
Oh ya girlie, just pretend that I don't hear you at night when you cry in your run-down room. Pretend that I don't see you everyday with that miserable expression etched on your face.
You go on pretending- me, I've got better things to do.
I've got my own pretending to do.
Oh ya, girlie you've got it so tough don't tcha? No mommie or daddie now. No one to help, no one to talk to, no one to laugh with, or no one to love.
Ha! Welcome to my world.
The world without hope. Get used to it, I know I have.
And you know what? I don't even remember my old life, heck, I'm not even sure Tymmie is my real name.
But you just go ahead and cry your pretty blue eyes out girlie, cry for your lost faith, cry for your numbness, just let Niagara falls spew from those eyes for all I care.
Cause guess what? I've cried my share too, and believe me girlie, things only get worse from here.
Way worse.
Some days girlie, you're just going to scream your lungs out just so you can remember what it's like to have some sort of feeling in you. I know I have.
And I also know that one day you're going to hate me so much you're going to burst, you're going to hate me for transforming you into a hater.
But darlin', hate isn't so bad. It's kept me alive.
And you know what I hate most about you girlie? Well, do ya?
I hate the fact that right now you're making me feel as low as a worm.
I hate how right now I'm feeling waves of pity. Pity is weakness, every good Follower knows that.
And the worst part about it is, I know I should be helping you instead of mocking you.
Because it wasn't so long ago-
-When I was you.
And the part about that that sucks the most is that one day you're going to be me.
Hollow and empty.
I don't want that. I'm miserable enough; I don't need another me.
So I'm making a step. A step towards hope.
A step we both need.
As I slowly walk over to you, you sad crying excuse for a Follower, I try to tell myself that this is wrong, this isn't good for the Atrox.
But I know it's right, and for right now, who gives a damn about the Atrox?
A stand over you, you curling crying thing. And the pity is to the point of unbearable.
You look up, with your pretty tear-streaked face and you say in a voice that already has the tint of malice in it, "What do you want?"
I sigh, and extend my hand, "I want to help. I'm Tymmie."
Her eyes flash for a moment, and she slowly says, her voice still quaky from crying, "I'm Kylie."
Her eyes are trembling and I pull her into a hug and pat her back in what I hope is reassurance. "It'll be ok." I say.
I know across the room, Murray, Kelly, Yvonne, and Karyl are making fun of me for becoming soft-hearted and for a moment I consider going back over there.
But when I feel Kylie shaking I tell myself screw it.
This is the right thing to do.
And who knows, maybe one day I may get my shot at humanity.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Sorry, it was one of those things that stuck in my head, hope you liked it, if not, well that's ok too.
!Nym, Bud, & Seabiscuit (The Deadly Trio)!
TBC? Up to the Reviewers
BUD: No one cares, and as your muse, I recommend you start writing the actual story.
Nymbis: Oh yeah, Anyways, I own nothing except the character Kylie.
Why Must We Live Like This?
By: Nymbis
Summary: Probable One-Shot. Tymmie comforts a girl he just crossed over.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Why was she always in the corner like that?
Why doesn't she ever talk?
All she ever does is just cry and mope in her little corner of nothing.
She's a weird one. Karyl told me right off not to cross her over because of that. He said that depressed ones were no fun to rob hope from. All they'd do is whimper.
But no, I had to be the big man.
I had to be the one to prove himself to Stanton.
And now we were stuck with a crier.
Oh yeah, she's looking at me now, probably thinking I feel bad for making her life go from horrible to worse. WRONG! Ya, girlie! See me? I don't care! I never will care, I don't want to care.
I can't care.
Oh ya girlie, just pretend that I don't hear you at night when you cry in your run-down room. Pretend that I don't see you everyday with that miserable expression etched on your face.
You go on pretending- me, I've got better things to do.
I've got my own pretending to do.
Oh ya, girlie you've got it so tough don't tcha? No mommie or daddie now. No one to help, no one to talk to, no one to laugh with, or no one to love.
Ha! Welcome to my world.
The world without hope. Get used to it, I know I have.
And you know what? I don't even remember my old life, heck, I'm not even sure Tymmie is my real name.
But you just go ahead and cry your pretty blue eyes out girlie, cry for your lost faith, cry for your numbness, just let Niagara falls spew from those eyes for all I care.
Cause guess what? I've cried my share too, and believe me girlie, things only get worse from here.
Way worse.
Some days girlie, you're just going to scream your lungs out just so you can remember what it's like to have some sort of feeling in you. I know I have.
And I also know that one day you're going to hate me so much you're going to burst, you're going to hate me for transforming you into a hater.
But darlin', hate isn't so bad. It's kept me alive.
And you know what I hate most about you girlie? Well, do ya?
I hate the fact that right now you're making me feel as low as a worm.
I hate how right now I'm feeling waves of pity. Pity is weakness, every good Follower knows that.
And the worst part about it is, I know I should be helping you instead of mocking you.
Because it wasn't so long ago-
-When I was you.
And the part about that that sucks the most is that one day you're going to be me.
Hollow and empty.
I don't want that. I'm miserable enough; I don't need another me.
So I'm making a step. A step towards hope.
A step we both need.
As I slowly walk over to you, you sad crying excuse for a Follower, I try to tell myself that this is wrong, this isn't good for the Atrox.
But I know it's right, and for right now, who gives a damn about the Atrox?
A stand over you, you curling crying thing. And the pity is to the point of unbearable.
You look up, with your pretty tear-streaked face and you say in a voice that already has the tint of malice in it, "What do you want?"
I sigh, and extend my hand, "I want to help. I'm Tymmie."
Her eyes flash for a moment, and she slowly says, her voice still quaky from crying, "I'm Kylie."
Her eyes are trembling and I pull her into a hug and pat her back in what I hope is reassurance. "It'll be ok." I say.
I know across the room, Murray, Kelly, Yvonne, and Karyl are making fun of me for becoming soft-hearted and for a moment I consider going back over there.
But when I feel Kylie shaking I tell myself screw it.
This is the right thing to do.
And who knows, maybe one day I may get my shot at humanity.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Sorry, it was one of those things that stuck in my head, hope you liked it, if not, well that's ok too.
!Nym, Bud, & Seabiscuit (The Deadly Trio)!
TBC? Up to the Reviewers