It's my 3rd time here. The burning has eased, though it stings when I touch it. My head keeps throbbing as a ringing noise pierces my mind. Who would even bring me here, It wasn't that bad, it was just a cut. Maybe I was seeking attention. Girls like me always do this. They're right, it's just as they said. Maybe if I bleed they'll believe me, maybe I can believe me
My childhood room; untouched. Unknown to anyone, I used to take shelter here. The same place where I spent my childhood was now doomed to be my forever home, for there is no escape. I can't leave.
Please, help me. I want to go home.
The bloodshot eyes of the angel dart at me as soon as I step foot in the chapel, The moonlight shot down from the open roof. The main priest shoots me a bloodstained smile as a pair of winged eyes led by a pair of lips flew to my side. Unlike the others, they never pushed me or ran away. The tension from my body melts as I approach my new family
Candlelight, music notes, everything of the sort; it had always pulled me in. I enjoyed the fine arts for quite some time, and my love for it hadn't faded just yet. I don't think it ever will.
Giorno cocked his head to the side as a yellow aura framed around him
Mista, Narancia, and Fogo continued their 'torture dance' accordingly. Giorno, Bruno, and Abbacchio simply watched, unsure of how to react. Canzoni preferite blared in the background- that being on Narancia's accord. Zucchero's eyes blazed from the reflection of sunlight onto the glasses Mista had previously placed on him.
Josuke stands out of the chair before clenching his fist clenched as his stand emitted a purple glow
"I'm gonna fix that spaghetti!" He declared
(Sorry I took so long to respond)
The blanket of lights blurred off their places as we zoomed by, Christmas music blared in the distance conceal everything
It was hard to imagine how the girl may have ended up lying on the cold, hard concrete. She was so perfectly still, with her hands clutching at her chest, and her golden hair fanned out around her pale face. There was not a single speck of dirt on her flowing, pale pink dress. The way she had her eyes closed and her knees drawn up towards her chest, it was so peaceful she almost looked like she could have been asleep.
A gentle breeze carries the fragrance of freshly baked bread across the sun-warmed town square. Tourists chat and stroll among the cobbled streets. people flowed in and out of the glowing buildings in streams
A gentle grey tone surrounded everything around me. Within the monotone display, I hear a voice call out to me. "They're dead. Because of you."
She gaped at the destruction that leaked through the city as time froze her in place. At that moment the man seized her by the chin before twisted her head around, He came out from behind her once bloodied with a white scalp to fully healed with a head of blonde curls
He held the girl's hand as tight as he could wish to hold it, and looked up at the graceful sunset. As his hand slipped away, he was met once again with the most painful of truths: The girl he loved so dearly had passed away last year, and the hand he was holding was that of a painting.
