Chapter 1: Living Dead Girl
Arms are very important. They assist us in lifting, carrying and pushing things. They allow us to hug and touch. They also help us fight.
Legs are important too- they help us move, jog, dance and pedal a bike. They also help us kick.
A mouth can talk, eat and drink. Its lips help us kiss.
Eyes- they help us see things. They wink, blink and cry. They also reflect the inner soul.
But the heart is the most important. It beats, it gives life and it oozes love. However, when the heart is torn, the arms get twisted. When the heart is stamped on, the legs loose support. When the heart is ripped, the lips go numb and when the heart is broken, the soul goes cold.
My mother once said, "A cold heart is a dead heart".
But, it this really true? My heart is cold- diluted in blood and frozen in the iciness of my marrow, and still, I am alive. What can you say about this living dead girl, who longs for his love, and loathes his ignorant attitude and his arrogant self? What can you say about these twisted arms, that yearn to caress his soft lavender hair? And these numb lips, that lust for his own luscious folds, surrounding his mouth. Or even these black eyes, that crave his attention...only just once! But these inner demons cause this contorted mind to hate him, to fight him and to despise him...
Indeed, when a heart is lost, everything is lost...
"Teddy?", a girl called out. Her hair, coated in a deep black eave, hung loosely around her delicate face. Not platted or combed, just shabby. Cargo pants, military style, covered her legs and a black tank top fitted nicely over her upper frame. She called out once again.
"Teddy?".
The stuffed teddy bear in front of her just stared back- a blank expression on its face. It neither smiled, nor did it talk. But it confirmed her existence- to her, teddy was a best friend- the only one who understood her, even though it was a little kids toy.
"Teddy? Why do bad things happen to good people?".
Again, it stayed blank.
Pan Son sighed intensely. She was left home again. Left out of their fun. Kept out of their merry making. But she was immune to it, for it had happened countless times in the past. The same, usual thing- Her 'dear' parents would get invited to the Briefs house for special events, and she was let all alone- not really welcome.
She was a certified underdog, but she was certainly not ashamed. The one time she was invited, made her realize that it was just an excuse to mock her; to have their fun, on her account. She hated them- those pitiful fools. Resented that 28-year-old lavender head and his 20-year-old blond bitch. What's the matter sweetheart, are you THAT desperate as to date an immature bimbo? Hell, even her uncle didn't feel for her. But she would show them. She would show them that she had one more trick up her sleeve. She would make them remember. Make 'him' miss her. Make them feel so imperfect, so inadequate, so inferior...that they would eventually fade away...slowly...until they were no more. She had pride, she did...
But pride is just another emotion, that can easily be broken...just like her heart...
The phone rang, causing Pan to jerk out of her thoughts. In the eerie silence of the room, the 'tring tring' sound became louder, and started to echo off the walls. 3 rings later, and her shivering self made its way to the phone. She answered it.
"Hello?".
At first, there were no spoken words. Just extremely horse breathing on the opposite end.
"H...H..Hello?", Pan stammered once again, sweaty palms clutching the phone tightly.
"Hey Pan, how does it feel to be an 18 year old girl, with the body of a 10 year old boy?"
The voice was crude and harsh, and she could hear loud, almost cruel laughter in the background.
Rage filled her blood. Fury ran through her veins. Anger possessed her mind, and hatred caused her to mercilessly slam the phone down, breaking it in the process.
'She's still a fighter'
Her eyes twinkled with tears, waiting to explode and run down her hot cheeks.
"Only one thing left to do Son. Only one thing", she muttered, removing a haversack and carelessly stuffing her belongings into it.
After doing so, she stole a glance at her room.
Never coming home. Their not gonna get me...
Slowly, she picked up Teddy and exited through the window, lowering her ki, and speeding off to nowhere.
They aren't going to get us Teddy...
She had her pride.
But then again, pride is just another emotion that can easily be broken down...
Please R&R, thank you...