-As of right now, this is my second story posted on this site, and the title and many chapter names… are temporary, but I like it so far… the story is random, I'll make it as I go…-

Tears of Fire

-These Characters are of my creation and I would be happy to share some of their exotic features with you and your stories, but please don't take them, they are mine, if you would like to borrow an idea, please e-mail me first.-

A Tearful Child

Where is it that life leads us? Does it want us to live life in the hardest known way, or to get a dose of every lethal encounter of it before we die? Do all boys like me grow up to be such a cold-hearted thief like me? Do I have to live my life like this? Who is there to help me, because it seems all are out to kill me? Does the blood that runs from my arm and feeds the wet earth free me from my past? No. Its just a bandage, a means of feeding myself false belief that I was cutting the pain out, but actually I was getting closer to death every day…

I sat under the rain-drenched tree, my soaking auburn hair sticking to my face. The rain fell on me like the truth of my parent's death. It pressed me, it pushed me, closer, and closer to the edge. It had been two months, three days, and 1 hour ago that they had been killed. I was too much of a coward to help them, I just watched in horror.

The truth consumed me once again and I smeared the wet blood along my forearm. The slight sting of the cuts not measuring to the pain I felt in my heart. Now, I have no heart, it's just a cold black rock there now. Jahe Diaken was no longer human, without my former life, I was nothing but a scared, depressed, and yet cowardly little thirteen year old sitting bloody under a tree.

I hated everyone and everything, and nothing in the world could describe my hatred. I now stole to live and lived to die. It didn't matter anymore.

I looked up at the dark sky through the leaves in the tree. The ice-cold rain soaked my weak, dying body. I thought of what I had, it made me miss it more. I wish everyone would die, and then I would mourn in peace, I wouldn't have to steal to live. Yet now, it was a way of life.

I raised the blade of my favorite dagger, stained on the blade with blood. I held my hand up to the weeping sky above me and cut into my skin from my wrist to the middle of my forearm. The blood flowed soon after and I squeezed my fist, urging it to come out. The blood drooled faster covering my rain soaked shirt with a crimson tide of my life.

I stared up into the leaves and saw them slowly fade with the pain of my arm, the sting slowly leaving and I fell, helpless onto the lake of rain below me… And all was swallowed in the pool of bloody water.

I awoke, the dark sky above me the rain had subsided, but strangely I felt watched, but I felt watched all the time. My body was still soaking wet from the puddle below me. I looked at the cuts on my arm, the blood had now turned to a brownish color and were beginning to cake over.

I picked up my dagger and wiped the blade clean on my damp shirt and slid it into its sheathe. I had gotten to close to the edge again, and I nearly killed myself.

Mehre, a town close by was the town I spent most of my time in. It had the town hall, bar, inn, and even a few merchant stands. The place was a small town, but that meant fewer guards.

I stood up thinking if I should go to Mehre today, or go somewhere else…I could march through the woods and see if there was anything there that I hadn't found in the past few weeks. Yeah that was a good idea. I didn't feel like going into town anyway.

Why did it have to be night that I was always wide-awake, I could hardly stay awake during the day. The woods had initially been a temporary thing, but once I was caught stealing something in Mehre they wouldn't let me stay there, they even watch me closer now. I looked into the inky darkness and listened, but heard nothing but the occasional rustling of the leaves in the wind.

I sighed, I then walked in the direction away from the road, I had never gone this far before…I came in pretty far to get away from everyone on the roadway. The brush was thicker and the leaves crunched under my feet. I felt afraid to make noise in such perfectly silent darkness.

Then I came upon a wall of brayers and thorns, the wall was about six feet high and thicker than molasses. I heard a deep humming behind them as if someone were singing a bass song on the same continuous note. I felt something pulling me physically to the brayers and my mind was telling me to run through them.

The humming was strange, it was frightening, yet inviting. It scared me, but I was curious about what could draw me to want to run through thorns to get too.