It Isn't Them, It's What They Do

"People are terrible. They hurt me. I'm not coming back."
 The young woman is beautiful, but stress has aged her before her time. I don't know what to say, but words seem to come when we most need them.  "People aren't terrible. What they do is." I look her directly in the eyes, speaking severely. "I'm not coming back." she whispers again, touching the leather notebook that holds her thoughts.
"Yes you are." I ejaculate, starting to come towards her. She has pain in her murky grey eyes that hold mysteries in their depths. 

"What have they done to you? Nothing." The woman gets on the defense, fighting me for her seclusion that she cannot have. 

"Everything. I feel every pain inflicted upon a living creature. They are ignorant, yes. Ignorant to their suffering." 

"What are you?" The young woman fingers her blonde hair, nervously, looking straight into my face. "Who are you to claim this?"

"I am who you people think I am." I say, before fading into the mist. 


4. Best childhood memory? Christmas and family adventures. 


  1. oooh...this is amazing <3 the chills ^_^

  2. Absolutely incredible and seriously eerie. You're a really amazing writer and you've got such a way with words. <3
    PS: Your new blog design is flawless. *o*

    1. Thank you Oli!


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