Author's note:
Author's note:
As I'm writing this, I find it to be extremely depressing and morbid.
It's not as if I'm trying to be; I just am. It's the way I've always been.
When I was in second grade I told a girl I would find the knives in the schools kitchen and kill her with them because she bothered me. When I was ten I drew things like human hearts that had been ripped fresh and bloody from a persons chest and placed on a table with a lamp. When I was thirteen I drew pictures of people being abuse, killed, beaten and hurt. Now I write stories about self hatred and self loathing and self mutilation. I am still on my self proclaimed hiatus, but I had to write before my head exploded.
I haven't in a long time; I need to though. I cant work on my other stories currently. I apologise. I'll try to get some updates in soon…
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Some people are relied repetitively and they thrive from it. Some people live to be in a room full of people, commanding it. Some live to be rich, to have all they ever asked for and some just live in a spoiled manner. There were some kinds of people who could live alone for years and not care.
Allen walker was not one of those people. Allen Walker was a sad, depressed, little boy. The real Allen Walker played Hide-and-Seek with the rest of the world. He came out when Allen was completely alone. When it became too much for Allen. When Allen finally became so desperately disturbed that he wished the Millennium Earl would show up and eliminate him.
Allen Walker did not complain. He never cried, wined, pouted and acted like a spoilt child that didn't get what he wanted. He wasn't the kind of person who asked for everything. He ate a lot; yes. Did he ask for a lot of material things? Never.
As he stared down blankly from the roof of the Black Order, he silently cried. How could they be so obliviously cruel?
If everyone mounds their secrets into one person; it's only a matter of time until he stops functioning correctly. He didn't bother to wipe his face as freezing winds struck at him. He was enjoying the cold. It made his cheeks burn and sting unlike anything else.
He stared all the way down as far as his eyes would take him; and for more then a second he pondered what it would be like.
He wondered and wondered…would it frighten him? Would he regret doing it? Would he be saved...? Or….Would they even care once they found out…?
His sops racked his body as he stared down; wondering what it would be like… to fall and break.
He sighed and took a step closer. He wanted it. Pain to take away his numbness. But then…
Incessantly warm arms surrounded him and a chin landed on his shoulder.
"You don't need to know what it's like. You already know. You've just done it."
Lavi's warm smiling voice dragged him down into complicity. When he leaned his head back onto the Bookman's shoulder the older boy kissed him on the cheek and pulled him back into the Black Order. Smiling once again, the fake Allen and the Fake Lavi walked side by side to the Dining Hall, playing Hide-And-Seek with the rest of the world.
END NOTE:
This would have taken less then fifteen minutes if my friend hadnt made me play games with her on meebo. (
Anyway...
Hereitis. Angsty as ever...
REVIEW.