Lacrimosa
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- Parts 3
Ongoing24m
Last published Sun, Dec 8, 2013
For as long as I could remember, the world was a cold, dark place. My life was a meaningless one filled with emptiness and heartache. I woke each day to an overwhelming loneliness, and slept at night feeling hollow. Something I could not remember was missing. My soul had been broken; That's when I met him. I had no name back then. I had no past, and my future had been sealed. I was sentenced to death for failing a simple assassination mission. Failure is not tolerated within our organisation. If not for him, I would already be dead. My life belongs to Mr. Chase Carson.
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Saved By a Stranger
No one stopped to look. No one glanced in the alley I cried in. I was tired of this place, so tired of the endless days that stretched out before me. The emptiness in my heart was eating me alive, with no end in sight. My own darkness was swallowing me whole and leaving nothing alive. The tears froze on my bright red cheeks. I was tired of feeling so broken, but most of all I was tired of being so alone. I pulled out the cold heavy weapon from my coat and stared at it. "If someone would look this way," I thought, "If someone would just glance at me and see my pain. I won't do it." There was a man standing in front of me. After he removed the single bullet from my pistol, he handed it back to me, and left. I followed the man at a distance back to his apartment. He knew that I had followed him and waited at the door to let me in. For reasons I cannot explain I entered his tiny apartment. I fell asleep at the table playing with the bullet and woke up to my alarm the following morning. There was a pillow beneath my head, a blanket over my shoulders, and a note that read: "Dear Stranger..."Complete
Dear Carson
Dear Carson, do you ever think about me? Do you ever miss me? When you hear our song, does it make your heart ache? Or does it remind you of us? Or do you still not care? You hurt me. You really did. You still do. I don't thinks you realize the pain you have put me through. And, still do. I cared, and you didn't. I loved you. But that wasn't good enough. I handed you my heart, and you took it, and crushed into a million little pieces. You didn't mean it when you said you loved me. You liar. Heart breaker. Cheater. Charmer... You called me PrincessHeaven.. And I called you my Prince. You gave me that cute little lock, and you kept the tiny silver key in your phone case. You gave me so much to love, and so much to remember. Dear Carson, I still love you.Complete
I'm Tired
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Lucid dreamer [Dark Dreams]
Their is no need of that power that fears everyone in my kingdom, i failed to protect that only person who was more than anything. I mean it when I say anything. I failed to protect you I'm an loser I'm the powerless person that doesn't have left anything without you. My life ends when you were laying their breathless and i can't save you...
(COMPLETED STORY) The boy with the dying heart
I wish I didn't love him. But I do. Horrible right? He was dying and I was dying but that didn't stop us. The world wouldn't miss us well not me at least, I'm not dying a physical death, I'm dying a spiritual death, an eternal agony. That's why I'm here, in this place. Him and I, Anastasia and Chase we were the same. But my death and his death were and is two different things. He was the boy with the dying heart. I was the girl with the dead soul. But Chase's fight was much, much more bigger than mine.Complete
πππππ ππππππ πππππ | ππ+
β§ ππππππππ ππππππππ (πππππ) β§ When I was six I was kidnapped and taken away from my family for seven months. Thirteen years later and I have little to no memory of who had taken me. Ever since then my father has been severely overprotective and never lets me out of his sight. Now that I'm somewhat on my own everything starts to change. When I finish high school and start attending New York University my life takes a turn, for better and for worse. They're back. β πππππππππ π πππππππ β Years ago we found our little angel. She just so happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was the light in our lives, until one day we lost her again. Thirteen years later and we still mourn the loss of our sweetheart, but we found her once, we will do it again. I am the head of the Russian mafia, or a professor at NYU depending who you ask. One day I raise my head to look around at the sea of students and my eyes lock on a familiar pair of ocean blue irises. β ππππππ πππππππ β I'm a heartless killer and offer no apologies for it. As the head of the Russian mafia along with being the CEO to a multibillion dollar company, my life is nothing but darkness. During the day I'm an office man, at night my knife slashes through the necks of anyone I can get my hands on. Killing is my outlet, ever since I lost her. It helps me keep my anger in check. I've never stopped looking for her. We've come close multiple times, but each time came out unsuccessful. As I put a bullet in the head of my ex-guard, Alex comes rushing into the room, and the look on his face says it all. He found her. Start: July 4th End: ///
No one stopped to look. No one glanced in the alley I cried in. I was tired of this place, so tired of the endless days that stretched out before me. The emptiness in my heart was eating me alive, with no end in sight. My own darkness was swallowing me whole and leaving nothing alive. The tears froze on my bright red cheeks. I was tired of feeling so broken, but most of all I was tired of being so alone. I pulled out the cold heavy weapon from my coat and stared at it. "If someone would look this way," I thought, "If someone would just glance at me and see my pain. I won't do it." There was a man standing in front of me. After he removed the single bullet from my pistol, he handed it back to me, and left. I followed the man at a distance back to his apartment. He knew that I had followed him and waited at the door to let me in. For reasons I cannot explain I entered his tiny apartment. I fell asleep at the table playing with the bullet and woke up to my alarm the following morning. There was a pillow beneath my head, a blanket over my shoulders, and a note that read: "Dear Stranger..."
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