Blood and Lace {FINISHED}

Chapter 9: The Dreamer and The Anonymous

ENJOY, I KNOW IT MAY BE SAD... ER SCARY... OR WEIRD... OR JUST PLAIN EMOTIONAL BUT COMMENT - VOTE- FAN PLZ I APPRECIATE IT(: Especially I give credit to Edger Allen Poe who inspired the last sentences of this shorter chapter.

Chapter 9:

Anonomous's P.O.V.:

He was a dreamer. His eyes were that perfect shimmery milky brown. His heart was shattered.

And I had to admit memories of us being younger did emit my mind many times. But he was definitely a dreamer. And a creative one at that.

His eyes were the shade of green that was contained in the condensation of the gorgeous rocks that glittered in the winter's full moons. I have to admit again that I felt horrible inside.

Memories of her as a child flooded my so called twisted mind. He was mine. Ha the term 'was' is correct.

It felt so fluent on my tongue. He was mine until... well... when she came along...

She destroyed our relationship. All of it. I ignored it though. Except a piece of me, well, I felt... jealous. That word felt foreign. But it was, well, true.

He probably was never mine anyways. So it didn't matter because I have already fully moved on. Sort of.

I hated how his eyes twinkled every time he looked at her. She never could see the feelings he had for her.

Even I saw it. It was obvious. And it was obvious she had fallen for him too. She looked so different inside the glass.

Or maybe it wasn't even the glass that affected her appearance so much.

Her hair had turned to a dark shade of an ash blonde, like a silk clothe of perfect curls.

Her eyes were still that startling purple that made every boy feel like they were in a trance.

That stupid girl. It was her fault she's dead. How could it be mine. How?!

I was just returning what I had promised to do! But it had started already. The guilt has claimed my soul.

I know what will happen. And if she does wake I know the outcome to that also.

It's never happily ever after. It never is. The vulgar tales of war that always end up with love.

Love. Such a dull, over- used word.

I hated it. I hated love! I hated her! I hated him! I hated it all. All of it.

Every single bit of feelings or emotions that could stretch to the dark moon and back.

I swished the dark dress I had on and I was gone leaving black moths flying of into the distance of the woods.

Away from her. Away from the heart that still beats. Away from the slumbering heart's quiet beat.

The heart beat that could only be heard by the guily one's mind and heart. For this was only the beginning.