*points at gorgeous new icon*
I love my new icon! It was made for me by wastedfairy, bow down to her...
*bows and worships*
Pretty good day today. I have the tickets for the gig and a good idea of numbers, so everything is pretty much set in that respect. However, MSN is not working for me. That sucks. Evil MSN. *snarls*
AUTUMN LEAVES
I turn around, watching the autumn leaves fall on to my upturned palm. Around and around, I contemplate the brashness of human nature. I didn't care. I couldn't speak, I couldn't breathe.
I'm sorry if you're confused. It's hard right now to think, and breathe, and dream, and speak. It's hard to live.
I'm just confusing you again. It would be too cliché to say, "Let's start from the beginning...", so you know what? I'm going to start from the end.
The End. Two little words can come in so many different forms: don't worry, I'm finished, I'm done, it's over, I'm okay, shut up, go away. That's only to name a few, though. My story ends on 7th October 2003, with the two words,
"She's gone."
Yes. Yes, I was gone. I was 'away-with-the-spirits', 'God-has-her-now', 'she-must-be-happy-in-Heaven' gone. Whatever euphenism you find for it, I was dead. Murdered among the autumn leaves I loved so much. That's why I said it was hard to live any sort of life. It is, when you're dead.
"An irony. A crying shame," they said, sorrowfully.
"Schoolgirl Battered in Seasonal Shocker!" Screamed 'The Sun'.
I don't doubt that they were concerned for me when I disappeared, and I don't doubt their sorrow and pity when my body was discovered, mutilated almost beyond recognition, in a ditch five miles from my home, buried under the autumn leaves.
I was fifteen. I was popular, I was pretty, I had a boyfriend and great friends. I was academic, musical and sporty to boot. I had everything going for me.
"She was so promising," 'The Daily Mail' sighed, "she was all set for great things."
I was. I was going to be a doctor, or a lawyer. Perhaps even a detective or a forensic scientist. I hadn't quite decided yet. It must be almost ironic that the careers I chose to follow were so closely related to my death.
I was going to be a success, until I was battered to death by my own boyfriend.
Yeah, I know. Not so blessed now, am I? Not so charmed. If I'd seen it coming, I never would have gone out with Neil. Well, of course I wouldn't- to die so young wasn't somethign I particularly aspired to. I wished for it before the end, but I never asked for it. I didn't give him the satisfaction. I fought until the bitter end, but a lot of good it did me.
It was good at first, the relationship. I was in love, head-over-heels in love with him, and I thought he felt the same about me. I was pathetic, I suppose. As pathetic as any girl would be.
It wasn't rape, if that's what you were thinking. That's what the detectives thought at first, but it wasn't. Just a serial killer needing an adrenaline fix. Makes you sick, doesn't it? A sixteen-year-old serial killer. Well, it would make me sick. If I was alive enough to be sick, that is.
"Anna, I love you," he said.
"I love you too," I replied, breathlessly.
"I want to take you somewhere really special. I want to show you something."
I followed. Like a blind fool, I followed. He did show me something that night- his true self. He showed me the Neil that hid behind the normal person, that was locked away until it burst out, fangs quivering for its blood fix. If you'd met Neil before, you'd think that he wouldn't hurt a fly.
I wasn't a fly. He hurt me. Battered me into a crumpled heap on the pavement with a piece of lead piping. Sounds like something out of 'Cluedo', doesn't it? Well, it's real.
As I whirl around in the autumn leaves on this, the anniversary of my birth and my death, I tell my story and weep. I weep for the survivors, the real victims. My family and friends, who have suffered more in this year than I ever did in those few, short minutes.
The seventh of October. My birthday. My deathday. Spare a thought for me, and the people I left behind. I'm alright. I'm happy now.
That was slightly depressing even for me, but had a happy ending.
I have no homework tonight... It's weird, I've hardly had any this week, but I do have four tests next week to make up for it. ...Yey?
I should go and do some piano practise now... I should, but I won't. I'll just go and spam people's ljs some more.
*points obviously at her new icon (courtesy of wastedfairy), just in case anyone missed TEH SPIFFYNESS!)
~armeniel, hyper
*bows and worships*
Pretty good day today. I have the tickets for the gig and a good idea of numbers, so everything is pretty much set in that respect. However, MSN is not working for me. That sucks. Evil MSN. *snarls*
AUTUMN LEAVES
I turn around, watching the autumn leaves fall on to my upturned palm. Around and around, I contemplate the brashness of human nature. I didn't care. I couldn't speak, I couldn't breathe.
I'm sorry if you're confused. It's hard right now to think, and breathe, and dream, and speak. It's hard to live.
I'm just confusing you again. It would be too cliché to say, "Let's start from the beginning...", so you know what? I'm going to start from the end.
The End. Two little words can come in so many different forms: don't worry, I'm finished, I'm done, it's over, I'm okay, shut up, go away. That's only to name a few, though. My story ends on 7th October 2003, with the two words,
"She's gone."
Yes. Yes, I was gone. I was 'away-with-the-spirits', 'God-has-her-now', 'she-must-be-happy-in-Heaven' gone. Whatever euphenism you find for it, I was dead. Murdered among the autumn leaves I loved so much. That's why I said it was hard to live any sort of life. It is, when you're dead.
"An irony. A crying shame," they said, sorrowfully.
"Schoolgirl Battered in Seasonal Shocker!" Screamed 'The Sun'.
I don't doubt that they were concerned for me when I disappeared, and I don't doubt their sorrow and pity when my body was discovered, mutilated almost beyond recognition, in a ditch five miles from my home, buried under the autumn leaves.
I was fifteen. I was popular, I was pretty, I had a boyfriend and great friends. I was academic, musical and sporty to boot. I had everything going for me.
"She was so promising," 'The Daily Mail' sighed, "she was all set for great things."
I was. I was going to be a doctor, or a lawyer. Perhaps even a detective or a forensic scientist. I hadn't quite decided yet. It must be almost ironic that the careers I chose to follow were so closely related to my death.
I was going to be a success, until I was battered to death by my own boyfriend.
Yeah, I know. Not so blessed now, am I? Not so charmed. If I'd seen it coming, I never would have gone out with Neil. Well, of course I wouldn't- to die so young wasn't somethign I particularly aspired to. I wished for it before the end, but I never asked for it. I didn't give him the satisfaction. I fought until the bitter end, but a lot of good it did me.
It was good at first, the relationship. I was in love, head-over-heels in love with him, and I thought he felt the same about me. I was pathetic, I suppose. As pathetic as any girl would be.
It wasn't rape, if that's what you were thinking. That's what the detectives thought at first, but it wasn't. Just a serial killer needing an adrenaline fix. Makes you sick, doesn't it? A sixteen-year-old serial killer. Well, it would make me sick. If I was alive enough to be sick, that is.
"Anna, I love you," he said.
"I love you too," I replied, breathlessly.
"I want to take you somewhere really special. I want to show you something."
I followed. Like a blind fool, I followed. He did show me something that night- his true self. He showed me the Neil that hid behind the normal person, that was locked away until it burst out, fangs quivering for its blood fix. If you'd met Neil before, you'd think that he wouldn't hurt a fly.
I wasn't a fly. He hurt me. Battered me into a crumpled heap on the pavement with a piece of lead piping. Sounds like something out of 'Cluedo', doesn't it? Well, it's real.
As I whirl around in the autumn leaves on this, the anniversary of my birth and my death, I tell my story and weep. I weep for the survivors, the real victims. My family and friends, who have suffered more in this year than I ever did in those few, short minutes.
The seventh of October. My birthday. My deathday. Spare a thought for me, and the people I left behind. I'm alright. I'm happy now.
That was slightly depressing even for me, but had a happy ending.
I have no homework tonight... It's weird, I've hardly had any this week, but I do have four tests next week to make up for it. ...Yey?
I should go and do some piano practise now... I should, but I won't. I'll just go and spam people's ljs some more.
*points obviously at her new icon (courtesy of wastedfairy), just in case anyone missed TEH SPIFFYNESS!)
~armeniel, hyper