"Careful darling, love is a shattered illusion."
***
He is a nightmare dressed in a daydream.
She is a fox dressed in sheep's clothing.
He kills and she hunts.
Yet there love is unconditional.
***
Once Upon A Tragedy,
There was an everlasting...
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What weird food combinations do you enjoy?
*Exhales deeply* Oreos with orange juice and apples with ranch. Don't judge! 😂
***
Dear diary,
Starting this very day, everything will be new. A new journey that is ready to be embarked on if you will. And I was prepared to face the obstacles that were soon to be thrown at me because I know I will get back up and succeed once more.
I will become a new person. But in order for that to happen I have let a part of me die inside so that my ashes will rise. I will believe in myself just a bit more and love the new lifestyle.
Yes, I miss my hometown in the city, where the skylines were packed with elegant skyscrapers and there were at least a thousand places to visit. I made a million memories, held a thousand feelings, and a hundred thoughts. They were the treasure to my mind. They always will be but for now they shall be buried by the shovel I like to call: True Illusions.
The moments were real, but I'd like to accept that they're not.
***
Propping my thick cocoa colored glasses with a bit too much strength, I felt myself crinkling my nose. I started to itch it, but that wasn't the best idea. Huffing, I let out a loud sneeze, catching the full attention of the administration. You idiot! You just had to open your enormous nostrils didn't you?!Way to make an entrance.
I sheepishly took a tissue and started to blow my nose. People continued to stare at me like I had just committed a crime. Curse you brain for my unacceptable sneeze! You just want the glory attention from strangers.
"Sorry about that," I chuckled lightly, though I made myself more of an idiot.
The secretary awkwardly smiled and a few moments passed, she gave me my schedule.
I gave a quick thanks and as I was about to make my exit, I stopped as I heard my name being called. I turned around and saw an old man using his pointer finger to wiggle at me.
***
"India Viverette," the man, who I assumed to be the principal spoke slowly as he etched his finger across my file name, all while looking at me.
We were nearly face to face. Behind his pair of wired glasses his hazel eyes seemed puzzled, looking listless as his wrinkles creased and folded.
He was a balding man, with strands of hair sticking out in an unnatural direction right above his ears. He wore a casual suit to mimic his role, and I couldn't help but feel a bit of a panic gush through me. Another part felt that he enjoyed the power of having the impact over us students as well as teachers.
