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Drowning in Darkness: Chpt 5 I couldn't stop shaking, my head was reeling miserably and everything was starting to blur over, I distantly heard Aria telling everyone to get out. I wasn't sure why she was taking charge, Aria was usually so fragile in situations like this, and she was usually the one in a hospital bed. Aria's frantic yelling ceased, and everything was quiet but the steady beep of the monitors and Aria's breathing, it was almost soothing. I looked over at her, whispering, "Aria, why are you still here?" Aria was running her fingers through her short, thick black hair. She snapped up, looking at me.
"I don't know. I'm just waiting for someone to tell me you're going to die or something. I'm waiting for a nurse to come in and tell me you're insane. I'm just waiting for something awful to happen," she sighed into her hands, and I sat up, my head reeling more than when I'd been told how long I'd been asleep. Her eyes flitted over me again, big, black, and worried, she was scared,
Drowning In Darkness: Chpt 4 I was sitting I was only about five, and was sitting cross legged, and a boy with big, smooth, ebony wings sat across from me. His jagged black hair covered most of his face and forehead, and he sat shirtless, he appeared to be a teenager, maybe younger, and he smiled at me. "Hello Vero," He said softly, reaching out to touch something over my shoulder that I couldn't exactly see. I looked over my shoulder to see what he was touching, and I gasped in shock when I saw it, a large black ribbed wing protruded from the back of my shoulders, and extension of my shoulder blade. I glanced over my other shoulder, seeing a mirror of the wing there.
"A-are you an angel," I stuttered, my high voice scaring me. He smiled, pushing his dark hair back to only reveal darker eyes.
"No, far from it, my dear, I am but a memory." His voice was sweet I couldn't help to notice. And though my body was five my brain was seventeen, though it felt ages older. But I wasn'
Drowning In Darkness: Chpt 3 The next thing I realized after the initial shock of me being so late was the fact that I was driving, fast, too fast, and all because I was frustrated and scared over these stupid nightmares. I sighed, tightening my grip on the wheel, and slowed the car to the speed limit, and even that felt too slow. School wasn't far away or I might've gone insane just from the feeling of being alone for too long, I needed people around to keep me from losing it. I needed Aria and Jules at a moment like this, they knew my secret and accepted me, just like my brothers did. But my parents they avoided looking at me, at all costs and being in the same room was always out of the question, and if they did happen to look at me their gazes were filled with such hatred it burned me.
I needed to stop thinking about that, or I'd quicken my spiral into madness for sure, I shook my head as I pulled into the parking lot of Tokyo Preparatory International High School, my high sch
Drowning In Darkness: Chpt 2 But, as it was the usual routine by morning, I looked effortlessly perfect, though it had taken me hours to rid myself of the awful after effects the nightmare caused me. My long black hair was down and straight, covering the red marks on my neck from the menacing nightmare I had every night. The little make up I had to wear was around my eyes, covering the bags under them and making them look smokier, and bigger, like an anime girl. I checked myself one more time in the mirror to see if the red marks were visible; my short pleated school girl skirt covered my thighs, my white v-neck, and black Converse, well it looked good but covered the marks it needed to. Compared to my friends, well I didn't really fit in to the hyper atmosphere that flitted around them, like an aura some physics will tell you about.
Marie was like a Brazilian, druggie, fire bomb who rose straight from the depths of Hell to bring torture upon those she hated. Her big, unfocused brown e
Drowning In Darkness: Chpt 1 I stood alone in the room my subconscious mind had created. It was dark, but I could see him, though I never would know who he was. I could see the white of his shirt, and of his skin. But the rest of his face and body, they were lost to me, shrouded in thick tendrils of black. I felt the tendrils of darkness wrapping around me, the silent screams were beginning to bubble in my throat again.
I was gasping for air now as a thick claw of darkness wrapped around my neck, cutting off my air way. I screamed, but all that came out was a puff of air that fizzled out and turned into nothing in the large echoing room. The darkness enveloped me just as he turned; screaming out my name and then everything was cold and black. I woke startled, and still cold but sweating from the darkness that had coiled around me. My long black hair was plastered to my forehead in slick rat tails, my ankles were on fire from where the darkness had touched me, and I was still choking violent
Drowning In Darkness: Prologue Kokurai and I always watched her, from the Realm of Death, the realm we were born into. It was always the same young child, Vero Brooklyn Justice Takeyama. She was only just turning three when our race, the god's of death known as Shinigamis had decided her death. But I, and Kokurai couldn't just let the young girl die, she was beautiful and innocent. And in one sheer moment of fear and desperation, we did the unthinkable and we saved her, re-wrote history.
It was an almost unheard of act within our race and it was utmost treason because of the fact we hadn't written her to die, another Shinigami had. But rather than taking the punishment of saving her, Kokurai ran he pleaded that he would force her to insanity then dispose of her. Raiku, leader of our race, agreed, I stood alone, not knowing how to save the little girl yet again as they agreed. The three year old child would now live long beyond a human life span, she'd live forever, and like us,
The Coffee GodThe Coffee God behind the counter shuffles foot to foot, a dance of steam and espresso. Black painted fingernails, inch gauged ears and a gray striped sweatshirt, hood crooked on his back. There's a cigarette tucked behind one ear; it bobs and twitches with each step.
“Non-fat caramel latte,” he calls, just as he always does, part of a spell, part of a mantra, toneless (just a tuck at the end). I reach. He looks up.
The espresso maker hisses.
There's something like a grin, something like a spark, something like a shared secret linked eye to eye. When he passes over the drink (rough cardboard sleeve hot to the touch), he lingers. Our fingers brush, a shiver, a jolt, a ten-watt shock.
The Coffee God tilts his chin, shouts, “Hey, mind if I take my break now?”
and ducks around the counter without waiting for a reply.
He slips his cigarette between his lips without taking his eyes from mine. I follow him out the door.
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