My hands are starting to get depressing to look at... The three ridges that mark almost an M shape on it... the five fingers that extend outwards... the small burn scar I have at the tip of my index finger... Anyways, hi and welcome to the end days, oh ... err.. well my end days at least. You should be fully safe, don't worry. No apocalypse or anything just a simple death story. Yeah depressing right? Sorry to get real on you but to be honest its my own story and you can choose to read it as you please and I can choose to write the damn thing how I want to. So quit or don't quit I don't really care. It doesn't matter anyways as long as I leave behind and explanation of what happened. When some people look back at what I've done they're probably gonna raise some questions so here it goes. My name is... ah screw it it doesn't matter anyways... Look all you really need to know is that I have cancer. It's terminal and I don't have long. The doctor gave me 2 months at the very least, which is more than enough time for what I planned... Sorry for getting so cryptic so let me get down to brass tax. I'm a guy and i'm 17, i'm a musician at heart and that is how I tend to generally look at myself anyways. I play Tuba and other brass instruments but I've always been completely engulfed in the idea of playing piano since I was just a kid. Let's start with that actually... it's as good as place as any to begin this little adventure anyways...
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Moonlight
General FictionSome call me dramatic.. but in reality its my life and I choose to live my life the way I see fit. Under The Moonlight...