I couldn't believe how real the dream felt: the ocean, washing over my skin; the sun pouring heat over my head; the seaweed tickling my feet. It felt più of reality in the dream than in the actual descrizione of life, which scared me like hell. The vividness was choking my senses alive, but I was able to hear the cry in the background; yes, very angelic and begging me to come closer, to ease the pain. I tried turning, but my body willingly ignored me, and I flailed about desperately.
And then I saw him.
The black cappuccio wrapped around him like a religious cloak, twirling farther down to his waist and ending to just faintly brush the ocean waves dipped under his bare feet. He stood on superiore, in alto of the water, dark red eyes staring at me from the inky blackness that fluttered in that grave hole. A scythe was in his hand, the metal glinting at me. Slowly, he started a walk towards me.
I struggled, writhed; but it did me no good. He moved as if he owned everything, and whether o not I desperately moved to be free, he was in charge. He took his grand time reaching me, stopping inches away to kneel down. Those red eyes tempted me, peered into my soul and converted me.
I breathed lightly, my cuore beating too fast to count, my head spinning as the superiore, in alto of a child's toy would; fast, frightening. His face was getting too close, too close, hurting, suffocating...
Cold, dead lips met mine.
Everything stopped.
I woke.
The sun blinded me through the window, mostrare me the light it could produce. I angrily stomped over there to pull the curtain away, then trotted to my letto and stuffed myself under the covers again. I shut my eyes.
And then the damn alarm clock went off.
I growled, tearing the covers off once più and slapping the alarm clock on the top, pressing the button deeply down. I heard the machine make a small click, something it never did before, and I groaned.
"Another clock. Just great."
I got up, stretching like the marvelous cat I was in the morning, and rubbed my eyes. I staggered over to the bathroom, opening the door. I screamed.
"Jesus, Sam, you'd think that you'd knock sometime, o let me know you're here!"
Sam stood there, shamelessly holding a razorblade full of shaving cream before me. He still had half of his face to go. "Sorry. Brothers are like that, te know."
"And te know how sisters are. Now get out!" I pointed towards the door, glaring at him. He shrugged, continuing.
"How the hell did te get in here, anyhow?"
"I took the subway, went for a little walk, had some food---"
"Be sensible, jerk." I mumbled at him, sitting myself on my bed, toying with the covers.
"You left the door unlocked."
I frowned. "No I didn't."
He turned to me and nodded, scraping some più of the cream off. "Yeah, te did."
"I swear to God I didn't. The key is---" I ran to my drawers, opening the first one. I pulled the key out from under the socks, mostrare him the small piece of gold. "See? I put it here when I was done locking."
"How do te know that it wasn't there to begin with? That te left it there yesterday?" He looked away to watch his reflection in the mirror.
"Because, stupid, I'm not as dumb as you." I placed the key back into its rightful spot, then faced him. "Go to Simon's place and shave all te want there, but I don't want you're hair in my sink. You're already making me late as it is." I started to cerca for a pain of jeans and a t-shirt.
"Yeah, yeah. And until te get a guard dog, I'm going to be staying here for a few days. Mom detto so."
"Mom can go shove it up her---"
"Be nice." He warned, giving me a look while he rinsed off the blade.
"Who's in charge here again?"
"Doesn't matter. You're nature, as it is, will get te into trouble." He threw the blade in the garbage, yawned, then leaned against the sink and watched me, bored.
"And what does that make you? Someone with higher knowledge? We have the same parents, te know." I stated sarcastically, grabbing my bag.
"Oh yeah. I totally forgot. I'm just the idiotic friend who has some sort of Amore connection to te in being able to come every morning and shave the hair---"
"Shut up and get your bag." I shot at him, letting that fake-ass grin stay on all the way to school.
First off, to those of te that know me, I haven't postato at all in awhile, I'm aware my "Nightfall" series hasn't been updated for those of te that liked it, but since school started back, I have had hardly any time to write anything. I WILL get back to posting on "Nightfall" if anything else for the sake of completion. But I also discovered the marvolous "Fallout" series a few months back, and decided to try to make a novel out of it. For those of te not familiar with the series, "Fallout" is a series of games set in a post-apocyloptic future, and finds a custom made protagonist made customly da the player dealing with life in the now wastelandic USA. My story is loosely based off "Fallout 3" but with major differences along the way, so the story is original in that aspect. If te guys will read the story, I will make it as adaptable as I can for those who are not familiar with it. Please leave comments, so I know whether o not I should post it. Thank you. -AdamK
Your cuore is sore, crippled up like paper.
Your voice is weak, barely passing da you.
Your body is tired, let it lay for tonight.
te are but you- a stranger to much.
No one cares to know you.
They do not wish to after all.
And all those times te told everything-
It was a lie, I Amore te became a lie. A horrible lie not one can ever take back to you. How could they, breaking your very soul to the apple's wrinkled core? It shook and broke, just like that. Lonesome and ever so exhausted of even thinking it would be different this time around.
You're so hopeless. te probably cannot sposta away from the pain, the desecration left in the path at the end. Then again, in the end it probably doesn't even matter, does it?
Once a joy, now a misery forever scared, alone.
Your voice is weak, barely passing da you.
Your body is tired, let it lay for tonight.
te are but you- a stranger to much.
No one cares to know you.
They do not wish to after all.
And all those times te told everything-
It was a lie, I Amore te became a lie. A horrible lie not one can ever take back to you. How could they, breaking your very soul to the apple's wrinkled core? It shook and broke, just like that. Lonesome and ever so exhausted of even thinking it would be different this time around.
You're so hopeless. te probably cannot sposta away from the pain, the desecration left in the path at the end. Then again, in the end it probably doesn't even matter, does it?
Once a joy, now a misery forever scared, alone.
