Cece Pinkerton
I specialize in romance with a subgenre of fantasy (or vice versa). Trying to be more of a plotter
Cece Pinkerton
I specialize in romance with a subgenre of fantasy (or vice versa). Trying to be more of a plotter
I specialize in romance with a subgenre of fantasy (or vice versa). Trying to be more of a plotter
I specialize in romance with a subgenre of fantasy (or vice versa). Trying to be more of a plotter
Nothing lasts forever, the good things will come and depart as though a train stopping in your station of life, and the bad things seem to stay longer as if lurking hoping to pull then wool over your eyes and make you believe it's hopeless, maybe it is, I wouldn't know, I live as though the next day isn't coming, and it finally didn't. looking back I think perhaps I went about it all wrong, perhaps, but I wouldn't change anything really, but maybe if I could, if I would, I ‘d change you, i would give you a happy life, wish to clear the hate in your eyes everytime you looked at me, but I didn't and I couldn't so you brought it upon yourself to number my days, and I wish to thank you, because really, I knew all along that this was how it would end.
Swallow, that you will never be the same. Live the same. That this is a definitive moment in your history. As the blood seeps through your fingers, you recognize this. Close your eyes, and feel the warmth of the liquid surrounding you.
Hidden, are the ways of the world. Why does it beat down on some who have nothing but raise those with too much on a podium for everyone to gaze at? What will be given to those who live in fear, poverty, and shame? I think perhaps it would be nice to be someone besides oneself for even a single moment.
Guilt is what you feel as you collapse, that you could have had a meaningful life, perhaps given others meaning, but you chose what you did, you made decisions at the expense of others, threw away opportunity, to be here, lying on the floor, breathing your last
I lay panting on the ground, covered in blood and dirt. Everything hurt, but it was done. I heard him move closer. “Not still trying to kill me, are you?” I asked, only half joking “Lacey-” “If your gonna say something chivalrous, I'm will throw my knife at you.” “You seem to have done plenty of that already,” he replied, inspecting his body, it was caked with blood and bruises. I turned on my side to face his crouched figure, “Do you remember anything?” “Everything. But most times it was like watching from behind the scenes, I couldn't control anything.” “How many of the us moments-” I said motioning between us “-were real?” he winced “Not as many as I would've liked.” I fell onto my back staring at the ceiling. “Thank you for freeing me.” “What part of knife throwing do you not understand?” he chuckled “There are others...” “I already have my next target,” I told him. He picked himself up “Then let me help, I owe you.” “And a lot more, pretty boy.” he leaned over me, and offered a hand, this was it, I could lay here or take that hand and finally admit that maybe I was meant for something more than wasting myself away in a pub everyday. I looked at his face, I had a feeling he was going to help the others with or without me, I could at least make sure he didn't get himself killed. I clenched his hand as he heaved me up. “Ready?” “Ready.”
I reached for him, but he was gone, we had done it, but he was gone. I opened my eyes and could see nothing, taste, smell nothing. I only felt the tears streaming down my face. I was moments away from the creation of a planet that’s very existence had ruined my life. I was supposed to stop it from ever happening, but all I could think about was his face, he would never exist, I would fade, and we could never be together if we never were. But everything we had gone through, was to get to this moment, every sacrifice, for this one. I will see this through to the end.