| Subject: *Breathe Chaos. Breathe Death* (Good question, but I don't know. I actually have no clue where this is going, right now. Should be interesting though. But who knows? I don't thik it would hurt, it would just give my hurtin' baby more another to try and verbally abuse. lol. Poor thing. Look what you're doin Gena! lol. But it's up to you, girlie!) -Nell |
Author:
Catastrafy
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Date Posted: 00:56:20 01/12/03 Sun
In reply to:
Rage/Domino
's message, "Question?" on 19:19:04 01/11/03 Sat
*The rouge would have rather embraced suicide, or live with every curse one could utter, before ever saying such things to her son. The one son that actually stayed. The one child. Though she knew another was so close.....he seemed so far. A paw almost went out to caress him, but she soon remembered that she was a prisoner inside her insane mind. Gradually growing insane herself. But if not that, she was certainly dieing. Dial could hardly be lifted, and her ocules were dimming....no longer gold. But on the outside, the outside controlled by this bastard, it was her, the red. Just not her.*
T-they m-mu-must think I-I'm craz-zy? D-damn you, Sk-skepei.
*It grew so cold. Was growing. More tears fell. More tears. She would be dried out soon.....maybe that's how she would die. All alone in a prison, with only a few tears to call her own. Because after this, even if she made it, how would she explain that she had been sick? Caught a disease by the name of Skepei. A talking, breathing, thiking disease. A fear bloomed in her belly, that they probably wouldn't, and she owuld be disowned by the only family, the only friends, and the only true home she had ever known. She wouldn't be trusted.*
Why!
*A shattering cry resounded, probably startling her puppeteer(sp?). It was full of such resistance, such hatred, that for a split second, she actually had hopes of making it. But reality soon reared its ugly head, once more, and she regretfully, sorrowfully, settled. She could only watch, and cringe as she say Skepei send her tail within a few hairs of her son. A beloved son. The only one she had right now. More tears, as more bloody coughs raped her lungs, random fits ripping her apart. So weak she was growing.*
*Contemplating suicide. She had never done that before. It had always seemed like an easy way out to her. But now, only now, she was oh so willing to have it. She would have nothing soon, so what was the point of prolonging misery? She could think of no answer. She couldn't think. Darkness was upon her. Blood was leaking from her. She was being drained. Darkness was upon her. She was alone*
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