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Morte Sangriz Morte Sangriz
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My Apocalypse~ Part one


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She had a friend.

      I blamed him for opening my heart, for breaking down a solid wall that took years to build up and for making me feel emotion once again. It was his fault that I was here and it was his fault that I could not close my eyes without thinking of his smile and of dark rooms filled with glowing green stars and forbidden warm embraces. I messed up. I really did; and because of it I have fallen from the place up high from where I watched humans cause each other’s downfall in amusement. I had often wondered what made one feel that emotion called love and what use it was if after all I had observed said that it only bred chaos and destruction. I puzzled over humans and how they seemed to allow themselves to be led to their end with starry eyes and twined fingers that they defined as love. But because of him I had fallen from my perch in the sky above humanity and had come crashing down in a burning flash. And now I was made of ash; and I blame him for taking my hand and leading me to my end. He became my apocalypse and weakened me and I wanted so badly to make him pay for taking my heart and opening it once again.


       I blamed him for making me feel that dreaded emotion called love.


       I guess it was foolish to believe in whispered stories woven in the dark, about how a simple embrace could make it all stop hurting and make me feel alive once again. I trusted in the false promises hidden in his smooth voice and the warmth that seemed to seep from his strong soft form into my heart. I had forgotten those moments in the past when things had happened the same way and that those things fell into shards of crystal that flooded my lungs and ached when I breathed. The past was washed away for a moment in a second of lucid dreaming that colored my future with pathetic images of kisses with him; Kisses that were impossible to think of doing any other moment of the day because of the sole thing that I wanted to protect. It was impossible because of my friendship with his sister that despite all her neglect of me was one of my only friends. I wondered at times if she would hate me anymore than I though she already did because that was our relationship; Hate and Love and Forgiveness and Damnation. And it was a cycle that unknowingly she allowed to repeat every single time she blocked me out and went to her other better friends that were so much more popular and prettier than I.
      
       Most of the time it bothered me not for I was above feeling such petty human emotions known as jealousy and envy; and when she returned to the place besides me reserved for allies I held no grudge or worry that she would never return. For the abandonment was part of our dance that we enjoyed together and I felt that nothing could change this course of abuse nor did I want anything to change. Until he came in and destroyed the fragile balance of the game we had planned out in our heads; nothing went as planned and he ruined me and the chorography of my tempest waltz that brought us together then drove us apart.
      
       I wanted to destroy him but how could I kill someone that I loved; someone who was my friend's older brother that she adored?


      He paid no heed to me whenever I saw him except when I was on the verge of getting him out of my heart and mind. It was almost like he knew when his influence was weakening and he had to do something to wrap a tight leash around my throat so that I could not breathe, could not move without fear of choking. And I stood there like a fool waiting for the next time he would acknowledge me with a beautiful smile or a warm hug so that my greed within could be sated. His sister must know something, that I am sure of, she has begun to build a wall around herself almost as if to block my path to our friendship once again. Before my heart betrayed me she had only done this a few times; when she felt like she had enough of me and my weirdness or when her other friends compelled her to abandon me. It was something that hurt so much but that I managed to block out with reading and writing and sleeping; I had learned to distance myself from emotion when I was much younger and thus found it repulsive to be awakened from my slumber by attraction and sweetened moments in time.


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