Two maroon caskets.
A melancholy melody, passing back to but one little soul; the tears shed, the hair that dampened, and the sky that fell.
On a day so impure, it is only a pool, rim-filled with the liquid that seeps from an eye saddened by greed.
A girl with no mind
sinks down in the water.
Sickly harrowing miseries that pull some afar.
One girl.
One end,
for one day,
on one evening,
in one city, one tear
turns to two.
This girl is called Y/n L/n, and she is no ordinary young lady.
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"Yeah? You can? Great! I'm almost there, see you soon!!" Y/n beamed to a voice on the flip side of the gadget.
It's faux, don't believe it.
With that, Y/n hung up.
She who defies normality...
"Geez, that girl annoys me to no end... it's only temporary anyways. This buddy-buddy act, that is," she thought to herself, rubbing the back of her neck sloppily.
...is a troublesome foe.
She wore a black varsity jacket with white sleeves and white stripes around the cuffs of them, underneath being as bland as a black tee-shirt, tucked into a gentle style of torn jeans.
She had just exited the MobKicks store, wanting to take her new pair of shoes for a spin, she wanted to walk to the nearest park. It's clean, quiet, and surrounded by a good share of nature's unharmed beauty. It wouldn't be that difficult of a trip; Y/n knew Seasoning city like the back of her hand. Any un-athletic person would know the route, sure. Supposedly, it'd be a matter of how long they'd been living in that area.
Y/n pushed her hands into her jean pockets as they squirmed around, attempting to park into the pockets comfortably. A small grin drew on the girl's face as her eyes fluttered closed, her H/l hair blowing in the wind like an autumn leaf in the foreign evening gale.
The main character of our story,
Y/n L/n, is a girl who is yet shrouded in a brilliant bout of mysteries.
There are those who are living under the illusion that they truly know who Y/n is; peers, friends, and maybe sprinkle in some family.? It's a little on the harder side, keeping yourself a secret from your own flesh and blood, but to Y/n, it was a walk in the park.
Think of it like a yaminabe, and being considerate for those who don't know so much Japanese: "darkness stew", or "hotpot in the dark". The concept's simple. You take a party and have each individual bring a mystery ingredient, switch off the lights, and toss your ingredients into a pot. Everyone eats the stew, absolutely unaware of what they are eating.
Let's just say... life has been throwing many ingredients into Y/n. Whatever she produces... lies, acts, or gestures. What ever intention you think she has, you don't know. After all, you're only eating the yaminabe. You'll eat it up in the darkness.
Was anybody ever capable of knowing Y/n as a person? Her goals, her intentions with others, or even the world as you know it? Maybe to even that narrow, pesky family of hers, she was just a familiar stranger.
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𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸: 𝘮𝘱100.
Fanfiction(RECOMMENDED FONT: TIMES NEW ROMAN) Y/n L/n is a manipulator. She uses others to the benefit of herself. She thinks she knows herself, but of course she does.. right? She has yet to find herself. And with the support of a few other important role-pl...
