War
  • Reads 348
  • Votes 71
  • Parts 12
  • Time 1h 12m
  • Reads 348
  • Votes 71
  • Parts 12
  • Time 1h 12m
Ongoing, First published Jan 27, 2016
I ran and ran even though I can practically hear my feet protesting from so much running. I can hear their voices yelling behind me, shouting orders to those who have no position in their hierarchy. I took the chance to look back, only seeing them gaining on me.

I was getting desperate. I couldn't use any of my abilities because I was injured from the recent battle.

I may have won the battle, but I have not won the war.

Just when I'm hoping that I would get there in time, my legs gave out on me and I fell.

I laid there helpless until they hovered over me with smug smirks on their faces.

Seeing this, I want to simply behead them.

"Say goodbye to this world, Magic."

Magic, huh. How unfitting.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

He never asked for such a life. All he wanted was to be a normal kid with a simple life.

He never asked to be born in the Supernatural World.

It's just a never-ending cycle of war. And it was all because of that damn prophecy.

He who is born in the calm before the storm;

He who would not judge, but who would accept;

He who would bring peace to all three;

He who would save us all.
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At last | Editing  by TaurieKeianna
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At last | Editing

46 parts Complete Mature

New town. New identity. Same crazy. I love it!!! (insert enthusiastic voice ) (cough, cough) Not!! I hate it. I hate having to to hide who I am. But to protect the civilians and my new home from being destroyed like my last ones, I have obey the leader's rule. No matter if I do disapprove. But all of that changes when I meet, more like bump into someone who's special. ... DOOR OPENS. "Naomi Satchel!" my mother yells as she comes blaring through the doors. "Yes?" I say as I still lie under the covers. My mother pulls my cover from my body and tosses it on the floor. I quickly sit up in my bed and glare at her. "Get your ass up now you have half an hour left before your first-period starts and you better not be late," she demands. "Mom, this isn't my school. This isn't my home. I don't want to go." I whine and beg my mother at the same time to let me stay home. What was I thinking? My mom has an image to uphold being this perfect mother who loves and cares about her little baby girl. We both know the truth. Until a few years ago, I never even knew she existed. She and my father both agreed to send me here because they couldn't stand the fact that I fell in love with a black boy. Although neither of them would ever admit, that's the only reason why I know of her. I don't want to attend a school where I'm going to have to forsake who I truly am just to fit into their liking. How can I explain that to my mom when she sees everything to be black and white.