I rested my head on top of my knees and starred out the window. I tapped my
pen against my finger and bit my lip before dating the top of the page.
Dear Diary iIt is 2:30 in the afternoon in July and all you can see out the window was a pitch black. Every so often you can see flashes of light from the energy balls or fireball being thrown at each other all around you, besides that the world was black. Outside there lay tons of innocent people, lying dead in the street, the number growing every day. What was left of streets and lawns were know giant scorch marks, blood from humans or the slimy colorful blood of Demons. The sun never shone anymore, it was the biggest sign that evil had taken over the world. My mother was one of those who had died in those streets. Proudly standing up against evil, so that we all may live in the peace and harmony we once knew. She risked her life for her destiny./i
I stopped and bit the cap of my pen like I always did in search of things to say. Rereading what I had written it sounded so forced. Not my best work.
iThis sounds so corny to me. I have never had problems writing before. My muse has died. It's body lay next to my mothers. It's hard to write knowing when I close this book and walk downstairs, one very important member of my family will not be sitting on the couch telling me good morning. Knowing that without her powers, these Demons are getting closer and closer to killing us. Upside, the world knows we are witches. I mean who can hide the fact the evil has taken over so no threat of being exposed. I mean people are ecstatic to find out we are good witches. But that has so much pressure its unreal. Saving a country from literally being killed off. How is that even possible for a six-teen year old girl? I want to be normal. I crave to go to high school and worry if my boyfriend is being faithful or if he is screwing around with the dumbest cheerleader. Wondering if I flunked my finals. Or picking up my friends to go to the football game, complaining they never chip in for gas money and buying so much food that I gain ten pounds in a few days. When your mother dies and your stripped form everything you have known your life nothing else seems to matter./i
iYou know what I worry about the most? Philip. He is only seven. When he grows up and his daughter asks how her grandmother was and what she was like, will he remember her? Will he live to have children? And if so will I live to see them? Are these thoughts I should be worried about? Are these thoughts ANYONE should have to worry about?/I
Adjusting my self in the window sill so I could see the street I turned to far end of the street visible through the window, where scorch marks were seen against the walls, blood stained the streets and sidewalk. I moved my leg slightly as it brushed against Pyralis' old teddy bear. She had it since she was young; Cole had given it to her when she was only about 2 months old. It was soft and a light brown. One of its small black eyes was know missing but it still held the same meaning to her. She always took it out of the box that protected it from dust and weather when she needed comforting.
My blanket was covering the bottom of my legs. It wasn't really that cold in the house but if anything it was a security blanket for me. It was a hand sewn quilt. When Mom found out she was pregnant with me, her and my aunts had taken the nine months to sew me a quilt with little messages and pictures in there. They had even summoned grandma and she had told mom what to put for her own square. Dad and Cole had all made one to, but the majority of the squares were things my mom always wanted me to remember. Like "I love you," "Don't be scared to cry," "We fight evil, we don't become it." Little things such as that. And when I need reminding of those things I look at the blanket. It had even stopped me from becoming this vampire thing. I don't even remember what it was all I know is I was close to becoming one. Now, it had a new meaning. It had been things that reminded me of my mom. Of thoughts and dreams she had for me. Things she would tell me to this day, if she could.
iI hate the Elders. I think I have tried to summon mom about fifty times. They say I need to grieve and we both need to adjust. You know they did this to my mom when Aunt Prue died to. And you know what that did for me mom? It tore her apart till she went insane. She needed her sister to comfort her, and tell her things would be ok and to remind her that things happen for a reason, and all the things big sisters do. Well I need my mother. SHE IS A CHARMED ONE DAMNIT. All the good we have down for them, the lives we have saved and they couldn't save her. Cause of their fucking rules. I don't care about their rules, my mother is up their and I need her. As my mother once told an elder, "I don't care for your rules; in fact I take pride in breaking them." I completely agree with her. Who came up with these damn rules? That when someone family and their own life is threatened daily until there are a complete emotional basket case they can not see their mom for a little comfort./I
One of my tears slid down my cheek and hit the edge of the page, leaving a soft stain. I can't stand the sounds of screaming women. This meant I had to reach up and close the window because their shrieks were becoming unbearable.
iI hate my bedroom. You can clearly hear the screams of the latest victims to evil. Their screams cut through you and send a shiver down your spine. How can I sit their and listen to them die? It's not easy I'll tell you that. But do you realize what I do in a day's time? We all need a little rest once in awhile. Where would the world be if we were to tired to save it? In hell, that's where. Literally. So we took shifts. Right Now Paige, Cole, Pyralis and Philip were out. Of course they couldn't save every ones, and when any one was killed within a hundred yards of the manor we heard it. We couldn't explain why, the neighbors don't hear it and why Leo and Aunt Prue cant hear it, but us witches could. It made us cringe every time. Of course Cole, Pyralis and Phyre couldn't hear it for they are all half demons. Lucky them. I some time's wonder if it's easier being them. You know half Demon. We are not sure about Pyralis and Phyre, but Cole is immortal. I mean the Charmed ones vanquished him and he came back, more powerful then ever. If we can't kill them, name me a Demon that can?/I
iThe source? Ha the source doesn't bother with us anymore. I am not to sure there is a Source. Just a bunch of Demons running around on the surface. The source doesn't care about us anymore, he knows we have sealed our on fate, and one way or another his men will take us. I guess he thought we would join him, stop our pain. I would rather watch my mother die a thousand deaths then join him. HE TOOK HER FROM ME. HE RIPPED HER FAGILE LIFE FROM MY GRASP. HE SENT HIS DEMON; HE GAVE THE COMMAND TO KILL. HE DIDN'T CARE WHICH ONE OF US, JUST AS LONG AS WE WERE DEAD. COULD HAVE BEEN ME, PHILIP, PAIGE, ANY ONE OF US. BUT HE TOOK MY MOM. MY ROCK, MY FRIEND, MY CONFIDONT, MY EVERYTHING. SHE DIED SO SIMPLY AND SO EVILY. ON THE COLD CONCRETE WHILE HER FAMIILY COULDN'T EVEN HOLD HER. I WAS FORCED TO WATCH MY MOTHER TAKE HER LAST BREATH AND I WAS FORCED TO WATCH THE COLOR SLOWLY FADE FROM HER FACE UNTILL SHE WAS PALE AND THE PUDDLE OF BLOOD GREW TO MORE THEN TWICE HER SIZE./i
I slammed the book shut, my anger getting the best of me. Orbing over to the bed, I buried my head in Pyralis' pillow and let out a scream that took all the muscles in my throat to pull off. The pillow muffled it enough for the family to hear, but my throat still felt raw. My tears were now leaving a soft wet spot in the pillow. I clenched my fists together until I could feel my nails leaving and imprint in the skin, and repeatedly banged on the bed. I summoned the all to familiar blue energy ball in my hand and threw it against the wall, and went back to the beating I was putting on my pillow.
"Why. Why.Why." I continued muttering even after feeling the soft hand on my shoulder. I dug my face out of the soft feather pillow and pushed it towards the side to see Phyre's beautiful green eyes staring at me. I had loved her eyes, in the right angle they had speaks of a beautiful red-rose color that just seamed to scream of inner beauty and intelligence. Philip was convinced they showed inner evil, but it was all of fun.
"Paige was scared you were being attacked. I figured the person who was attacking you was yourself, so volunteered to come check on you." Her voice was soft and reminded me so much of her moms. Full of forgiveness and love.
I managed a small thank you and rested my head against her knee. "I know sweetheart... I know." She gently caressed my back as I continued my sobbing.
"It's just not fair." I chocked out before pulling myself into a sitting position. Reaching for the diary that I had thrown on the bed, I quickly locked in and placed it on the night stand, before laying back down on the bed with Phyre, Pandora finding us soon after wards and joining us.
Dear Diary iIt is 2:30 in the afternoon in July and all you can see out the window was a pitch black. Every so often you can see flashes of light from the energy balls or fireball being thrown at each other all around you, besides that the world was black. Outside there lay tons of innocent people, lying dead in the street, the number growing every day. What was left of streets and lawns were know giant scorch marks, blood from humans or the slimy colorful blood of Demons. The sun never shone anymore, it was the biggest sign that evil had taken over the world. My mother was one of those who had died in those streets. Proudly standing up against evil, so that we all may live in the peace and harmony we once knew. She risked her life for her destiny./i
I stopped and bit the cap of my pen like I always did in search of things to say. Rereading what I had written it sounded so forced. Not my best work.
iThis sounds so corny to me. I have never had problems writing before. My muse has died. It's body lay next to my mothers. It's hard to write knowing when I close this book and walk downstairs, one very important member of my family will not be sitting on the couch telling me good morning. Knowing that without her powers, these Demons are getting closer and closer to killing us. Upside, the world knows we are witches. I mean who can hide the fact the evil has taken over so no threat of being exposed. I mean people are ecstatic to find out we are good witches. But that has so much pressure its unreal. Saving a country from literally being killed off. How is that even possible for a six-teen year old girl? I want to be normal. I crave to go to high school and worry if my boyfriend is being faithful or if he is screwing around with the dumbest cheerleader. Wondering if I flunked my finals. Or picking up my friends to go to the football game, complaining they never chip in for gas money and buying so much food that I gain ten pounds in a few days. When your mother dies and your stripped form everything you have known your life nothing else seems to matter./i
iYou know what I worry about the most? Philip. He is only seven. When he grows up and his daughter asks how her grandmother was and what she was like, will he remember her? Will he live to have children? And if so will I live to see them? Are these thoughts I should be worried about? Are these thoughts ANYONE should have to worry about?/I
Adjusting my self in the window sill so I could see the street I turned to far end of the street visible through the window, where scorch marks were seen against the walls, blood stained the streets and sidewalk. I moved my leg slightly as it brushed against Pyralis' old teddy bear. She had it since she was young; Cole had given it to her when she was only about 2 months old. It was soft and a light brown. One of its small black eyes was know missing but it still held the same meaning to her. She always took it out of the box that protected it from dust and weather when she needed comforting.
My blanket was covering the bottom of my legs. It wasn't really that cold in the house but if anything it was a security blanket for me. It was a hand sewn quilt. When Mom found out she was pregnant with me, her and my aunts had taken the nine months to sew me a quilt with little messages and pictures in there. They had even summoned grandma and she had told mom what to put for her own square. Dad and Cole had all made one to, but the majority of the squares were things my mom always wanted me to remember. Like "I love you," "Don't be scared to cry," "We fight evil, we don't become it." Little things such as that. And when I need reminding of those things I look at the blanket. It had even stopped me from becoming this vampire thing. I don't even remember what it was all I know is I was close to becoming one. Now, it had a new meaning. It had been things that reminded me of my mom. Of thoughts and dreams she had for me. Things she would tell me to this day, if she could.
iI hate the Elders. I think I have tried to summon mom about fifty times. They say I need to grieve and we both need to adjust. You know they did this to my mom when Aunt Prue died to. And you know what that did for me mom? It tore her apart till she went insane. She needed her sister to comfort her, and tell her things would be ok and to remind her that things happen for a reason, and all the things big sisters do. Well I need my mother. SHE IS A CHARMED ONE DAMNIT. All the good we have down for them, the lives we have saved and they couldn't save her. Cause of their fucking rules. I don't care about their rules, my mother is up their and I need her. As my mother once told an elder, "I don't care for your rules; in fact I take pride in breaking them." I completely agree with her. Who came up with these damn rules? That when someone family and their own life is threatened daily until there are a complete emotional basket case they can not see their mom for a little comfort./I
One of my tears slid down my cheek and hit the edge of the page, leaving a soft stain. I can't stand the sounds of screaming women. This meant I had to reach up and close the window because their shrieks were becoming unbearable.
iI hate my bedroom. You can clearly hear the screams of the latest victims to evil. Their screams cut through you and send a shiver down your spine. How can I sit their and listen to them die? It's not easy I'll tell you that. But do you realize what I do in a day's time? We all need a little rest once in awhile. Where would the world be if we were to tired to save it? In hell, that's where. Literally. So we took shifts. Right Now Paige, Cole, Pyralis and Philip were out. Of course they couldn't save every ones, and when any one was killed within a hundred yards of the manor we heard it. We couldn't explain why, the neighbors don't hear it and why Leo and Aunt Prue cant hear it, but us witches could. It made us cringe every time. Of course Cole, Pyralis and Phyre couldn't hear it for they are all half demons. Lucky them. I some time's wonder if it's easier being them. You know half Demon. We are not sure about Pyralis and Phyre, but Cole is immortal. I mean the Charmed ones vanquished him and he came back, more powerful then ever. If we can't kill them, name me a Demon that can?/I
iThe source? Ha the source doesn't bother with us anymore. I am not to sure there is a Source. Just a bunch of Demons running around on the surface. The source doesn't care about us anymore, he knows we have sealed our on fate, and one way or another his men will take us. I guess he thought we would join him, stop our pain. I would rather watch my mother die a thousand deaths then join him. HE TOOK HER FROM ME. HE RIPPED HER FAGILE LIFE FROM MY GRASP. HE SENT HIS DEMON; HE GAVE THE COMMAND TO KILL. HE DIDN'T CARE WHICH ONE OF US, JUST AS LONG AS WE WERE DEAD. COULD HAVE BEEN ME, PHILIP, PAIGE, ANY ONE OF US. BUT HE TOOK MY MOM. MY ROCK, MY FRIEND, MY CONFIDONT, MY EVERYTHING. SHE DIED SO SIMPLY AND SO EVILY. ON THE COLD CONCRETE WHILE HER FAMIILY COULDN'T EVEN HOLD HER. I WAS FORCED TO WATCH MY MOTHER TAKE HER LAST BREATH AND I WAS FORCED TO WATCH THE COLOR SLOWLY FADE FROM HER FACE UNTILL SHE WAS PALE AND THE PUDDLE OF BLOOD GREW TO MORE THEN TWICE HER SIZE./i
I slammed the book shut, my anger getting the best of me. Orbing over to the bed, I buried my head in Pyralis' pillow and let out a scream that took all the muscles in my throat to pull off. The pillow muffled it enough for the family to hear, but my throat still felt raw. My tears were now leaving a soft wet spot in the pillow. I clenched my fists together until I could feel my nails leaving and imprint in the skin, and repeatedly banged on the bed. I summoned the all to familiar blue energy ball in my hand and threw it against the wall, and went back to the beating I was putting on my pillow.
"Why. Why.Why." I continued muttering even after feeling the soft hand on my shoulder. I dug my face out of the soft feather pillow and pushed it towards the side to see Phyre's beautiful green eyes staring at me. I had loved her eyes, in the right angle they had speaks of a beautiful red-rose color that just seamed to scream of inner beauty and intelligence. Philip was convinced they showed inner evil, but it was all of fun.
"Paige was scared you were being attacked. I figured the person who was attacking you was yourself, so volunteered to come check on you." Her voice was soft and reminded me so much of her moms. Full of forgiveness and love.
I managed a small thank you and rested my head against her knee. "I know sweetheart... I know." She gently caressed my back as I continued my sobbing.
"It's just not fair." I chocked out before pulling myself into a sitting position. Reaching for the diary that I had thrown on the bed, I quickly locked in and placed it on the night stand, before laying back down on the bed with Phyre, Pandora finding us soon after wards and joining us.