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Literature

Prinzessin--Epilogue

Three years. Three years she'd been dead, and I'd only followed suit in her path, three years later. I had no regrets for dying; I'd fought hard, and it was only fair that I lose. I was a monster, after all. All of us were. After Courtney had died, I'd gone back home. I wouldn't kill anyone else; I was a monster in the worst kind, and I wouldn't be committing such crimes anymore. My father was happy to have me home, and demanded long, winded stories of my time in the army. I wouldn't talk to him; I went upstairs and considered hanging myself, just to be with Courtney and Channa. I'd often wondered if I would join them up there, in heaven

Literature

Fight Me

She spears the center of the training dummy with the accuracy of a four year old. Huffing, Lian straightens up and tightens the gloves around her hands, which are starting to get sore. Why couldn’t she get this? Gritting her teeth, she sends another kunai whizzing towards the training dummy, but instead of hitting it’s heart, it hits his crotch. She snarls, wishing that it was Amistad’s crotch instead of a synthetic training dummy’s. Lian drops her weapons and nears closer to the dummy, standing with her arms raised, ready to fight. If there was one thing that her mother taught her, it was to never solely rely on her

Literature

Pretty Girls

They say pretty girls shouldn't cry for they have no reason. They are young, they are envied; so why is she crying? With eyes like chocolate, and hair as silk her soft complexion gives no explanation. But nobody looks past the chocolate eyes to notice the pain deep beneath them. Nor the way her hands twitch when ignored in a conversation. They have forgotten about her for she was just a pretty face. Not talking, not smiling; just crying.

Literature

The Cherryblossom

Today was her day Her time to take flight. Slowly, her mother released her hold On the poor dear Despite the child screaming Despite the pleas she cried Nobody listened. Fluttering down what seemed to be an endless path The petite thing quivered in the wind Begging for somebody to come and save her. The ground neared, and the darling braced herself to fall among The many others Whose fate she was soon to share On the ground A pile of worthless nothing Nowhere to go Nothing special about them. Yet just as she was about to hit the ground The wind picked up Swaying her from side to side Making her rise far beyond all the othe