A Sad Day for Happiness

A Sad Day for Happiness


My eyes fluttered open. Where am I? Who am I? The curtain around my bed is pulled back a little by someone I don't recognize. He smiles. "Have you remembered yet?"

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...how much is a four-leaf clover...

:a . SAD . d a y . f o r . HAPPINESS:

...riding on my roller-coaster....


"Life is more than what your eyes can see."

I'll see you on the other side, in the apple of my eye
Let us paint a scenery in a colour we can see
Switch the news off, go to sleep
Fight the tears in misery
I've exchanged my childhood dreams for a bunch of make-believe
Touch the button
You should sit and listen
Watching as a tear rains into a broken heart
It's a sad day for happiness
In this lazy world
It's a crazy world, so all we can do is be
A little crazy
To save today

[Sad Day (For Happiness) - Cinema Bizarre]

The smell of sterilization and sanitation wafted into my room from the empty hallway, and my eyes fluttered open. Where am I? Who am I? My name is Ryan Nevaeh-Raen De Luca... isn't it? But I go by Nevaeh. I remember the accident. No, not an accident. I jumped on purpose. I remember Navie. Navie Avienne Heising. My boyfriend. My younger brother? But.... No. Adopted. I am adopted, so it's okay. Isn't it? And... I am... in the hospital. I am recovering. But this is the Psychiatric Unit. Am I really okay? Depressed, they said. Chronically depressed. But why? Now I remember Mom and Dad, slaughtered like animals... and the men who raped the three of us. The removal of still-beating hearts. An electric whirring sound. A thick, black liquid being forced down my throat. Or was it black? Everything I can't remember is black. I blink hard, trying to remember, but as I do, the things I do remember come back stronger, and I keel over, heaving what's left of last night's dinner onto the.... There's already a bucket at my bedside. Is this normal for me? The curtain around my bed is pulled back a little, and I look up a boy younger than me. Pretty.
"Have you remembered yet?"
They're not allowed to talk to me until it comes back, or I risk permanent psycological damage. I narrow my eyes, and I try. His name comes when it's called by the boy who sleeps in the bed next to me. I smile. I remember his name, too. We are friends, aren't we? And this isn't just a hospital. It's a special Psychiatric Hospital for people who will never get better. And I will live here forever.


:r u l e s:

  • No power-playing or god-modelling.
  • No playing other peoples' characters without their permission.
  • Please post in novel-style format. And seriously, at least pretend to be semi-literate.
  • Love is Allowed.
  • All characters must be fifteen to nineteen years of age.
  • If you're just going to sign up and then never come back, don't bother signing up — it's a waste of both of our time.
  • Anime pictures only, please.
  • If you have any questions or comments, feel free to ask me. Additional information will be in the OOC Board whenever I decide to update it. Just kidding, I'll do it soon. And then I'll update these when I do.
  • Have fun!
  • Rule of Cool: If it's awesome and it moves the story forward, go for it; as long as it's not utter power-playing bullcrap.


:r o l e s:

Room One Eleven
  • Karina Francoise Metronome by LozerFanAnah

Room One Twelve
  • Silus Mateo Fisher by Yonibibuns
  • Ryan Nevaeh-Raen DeLuca by Magical Neko
  • Jesse Christian Santiagoby SuckOnMyJuiceBox
  • Patrick Sykes by UpFallen

Room One Thirteen
  • Emily Lynn Gianluca by Akantha
  • Second Bed
  • Third Bed
  • Fourth Bed

Room One Fourteen
  • Savannah Avianne Reynolds by MagicalNeko
  • Lyle Dumont by Yonbibuns


:f o r m:

[First Name]
[Last Name]
[Room and Bed Number]
[Sexual Orientation]
[Psycological Disorder]
[Favourite Colour]
[Theme Song(s)]


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So you know what? Nothing's alright. It hardly ever is. I couldn't help thinking of Luca as a foggy mirror I stared into, reflecting some sort of ugliness in her eyes—and it pissed me off, I wanted to wipe that look off her face. My fingers dug into the concave of her throat, prodded at her lifelines as I resisted the urge to throttle her. What had she even done? Anger was the kind of strangling emotion that often made you forget why you'd lost it in the first place. I couldn't remember. The wicked grin that spread across her lips only made me flush heatedly, and caused electrifying pulses screaming through my veins. This was a little game we played. Cat and mouse, I couldn't always differentiate which role we played. What did the game entail? To see who could live longer, to see who would kill first. Which one could take more of the pain, and in the end, the loser died and the winner survived. Just a flick of the wrist or a single skull crushing blow could end it all. But she still smiled, begging me to go further.

I stared hard at her, trying to unnerve her in the process. It never worked. She loved doing this every morning, every time I woke up wanting to tear the building down. We collided in the hallways, provoking each other in the worst was and eventually lumbered towards breakfast. What broke us up? Usually Savannah or Luca's roommate, Lacrimosa. Time never mattered to her, she always had too much of it and she wasted it grinning like a tiger, pushing my buttons. I swallowed dryly, wishing in vain that she'd end it. Another part of me wanted to continue pressing her against the wall, fingers curling around her slender neck until she collapsed against the floor. Did I want her dead? No. Not really. “Fuck you,” I hissed between grit teeth, a barely audible noise slipping between my lips. “Don't push me, Luca.” I ignored the gibe about my explosive anger, it wasn't something I could control and she knew that—she abused the fact, twisted my words and actions so that I looked like a monster. And maybe I was. I felt her nails dig into the soft part of my palm, though it only pushed me to wrap my hand around her neck. Her reaction was to expose her lithe neck, allowing me to get a better, firmer hold of it—and I wondered, if she needed me to do this. We were sick.

Mere inches from her face, I whispered something quietly, a small threat that rumbled in my chest. No tears welled in her eyes, she wasn't afraid, and I felt myself deflating. Suddenly, my own hand loosened around her throat, she threw an agonizing pout, and shoved me away. I let her, watching her balefully as she ducked beneath my arm and hurried to comfort her roommate. Without another sound, I whisked by them and twined my fingers behind my head. With a scowl on my face, I recited calming mantras in my head, bowed my chin forward and closed my eyes. Karina's room was coming up, and I already figured Savannah was lurking around. Sometimes, I needed his smile.


Every time I looked at my roommates, I couldn't help but look down at my own body and judge myself. It always warped my own self image into something ugly. I was pretty sure I had ugly, knobby knees painted with small bruises, unfit for the butterfly touches that I wished I would one day receive from them. A small frown riddled itself onto my lips, and I found himself leaning heavily against the wall next to the bathroom, fumbling my fingers over the door frame. Waiting. I was always waiting for something to happen. Honestly, I'd let them rub their fingers raw against my skin—anything for that feeling of fleeting wants and needs resting just behind my heart. I couldn't sleep without urgent breaths and four AM moans, I wondered if they knew that they drove me half-insane. Placing my free hand against my chest, above my heart, and on top of the tigers regal head, I could feel my heart pounding between my fingertips. It hurt whenever I caught those wary glances, as if they were screaming don't-touch-me, don't-touch-me. Sometimes, I wondered if I was the worst person I knew.

Our surfaces are uneven. My fingers never fit in the spaces between his or hers, or theirs. We're broken down and broken up. Simply sad imitations of the people we used to be. I barely resemble me. And I certainly don't know you. The more I thought about it, the more I found that I barely knew any of my friends beyond our mental illnesses. Broken down and built back up, whenever I looked at Jesse, Patrick, Nevaeh, Katrina, and the others, I saw through all of their misgivings and almost forgot why we were here. It was easy to forget our problems when I looked at them and saw all the things I wanted. But I could still see the sadness lingering in Jesse's chocolate eyes, matted with barely contained anguish. Whenever he smiled, I was hardly convinced. Finally wrenching my hands away from the corners of the bathroom door, I tousled my plain, brown hair and rested my palms against the back of my neck. Thoughts plagued me more than anything else, if I thought of Jesse's chestnut-brown eyes, I thought: Could this be out of line, to say your the only one breaking me down like this? It felt like pathological lies to whisper sweet nothings into any of their ears. Admittedly, any of them could push the right buttons if they pressed against him, even if they batted their beautiful eyes in his direction—it was enough to make me sick. Love, right?

I wasn't completely sure whether or not my inability to love one person made me a monster. The doctors and nurses seemed to think so, labeled me unfit to father children or have a family of my own. No woman or man would settle for such a lecherous person. Deal with it the best I could, they said, and maybe someday my uncontrollable urges would just disappear. Even I understood that it was cruel to instill any kind of hope in a disabled person, we all knew that we were stuck in this institution unless we miraculously got better. Some of us didn't want to escape, some of us had nowhere's to go. The sound of the door swinging open caused me to look away from the curtains I'd been staring at. Nevaeh was an entirely different matter. When I whistled my tunes, I gave him my heart in the form of a bird. A small, insignificant little robin. I breathed through my teeth, halted my small tweets and pushed myself away from the wall with my elbows. I hated what Nevaeh had to suffer every morning, how he had to rush to the bathroom and empty himself because his memories hurt so much. Soft, ebony hair barely mussed from his sickness, pressed against the soft slopes of his face and those eyes. I wanted to always tell him that I loved the things he hated about himself, but hardly found the words that rested in the back of my head. A small smile touched my lips as he leaned forward over the sink, examining the wreckage and judging his nonexistent imperfections—but there was none, I knew he was fine. Physically. When he turned away from the mirror, I caught his elbow gently and offered him a lopsided smile, something to quietly say that things were going to be fine. As fine as they could be, anyway.

“Don't know,” I murmured quietly, releasing his elbow. Yawning tearfully into my hand, I stretched my arms out wide before motioning towards the door. “But I heard Vannah mumbling something about cake down the hallway.” I couldn't help but laugh softly. Cake could only be served in an institution like it, and it was perfectly normal. Unless something special was happening. Unfortunately, my gold fish memory wasn't up to par with remembering birthdays or anniversaries, so I'd feign ignorance until someone told me otherwise. “Cake for breakfast,” I laughed, before taking a few precarious steps towards the hallway. “Well, let's get going, they'll come stomping up here if we wait too long.”

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:n e v a e h:

Silus took a hold of my elbow, and I had to look up. Usually I just stared at his arms or his chest, because no matter how many times my eyes traced over the beautiful images, I was still fascinated my them. Even through clothing I found myself imagining the faces of the snarling tiger and the red dragon. How long had it taken? And... hadn't it hurt? I had always wanted to get a tattoo, but I had this minute fear of pain and needles that had made me put it off for way too long. Navie had once dragged me all the way to the tattoo parlor blindfolded so that I couldn't see what was going on. But I freaked out when I heard what was going on, and of course, not being able to see it just added to it. Though Navie meant well, and I knew he did, I could hardly speak to him for a week after that. It made me laugh to think I had been so upset about something so trivial.

But at least I had remembered something. I closed my eyes for what felt like eternity as I recalled the first time Navie had ever made a move toward me. But it was really only a moment or two. I knew that. But still, I tried to hold onto it. It was a little blurred and dull, but it was still there.

Sitting alone in my darkened room, listening to my favourite song on repeat, the only illumination radiating from my laptop screen on the bedside table, I eased the pain the only way I knew how. For every time the memory flashed through my mind, there was another long, beaded mark added to an arm sterilized with alcohol with a blade wiped down as well. I had to be careful. When I finally couldn't take the pain anymore, I wiped the self-inflicted wounds down with iodine, because I knew that it would hurt even more. It was during this stage that there was a knock on my door, and I nearly had a heart attack.

"Ryan?" It was just Navie, but I still panicked, throwing my things back into the drawer of my sidetable. I threw my shirt back on, trying to keep the sleeves from rubbing against the open wounds. It hurt and it was uncomfortable, but I had to try to make my room look presentable so that Navie wouldn't suspect anything.

"Just a sec, Navie; I'll be right there!"

From behind the door, Navie's voice sounded a little exasperated. "What are you doing, Ryan? Wait.... Don't tell me; I probably don't want to know."

But just as he finished the sentance, I flung the door open, my chest heaving a little bit. Navie peered around me into the dark room, but I just frced that smile and stepped back. "See? No one here. I'm not doing anything."

Navie eyed me suspiciously, raising one fine eyebrow. I went and sat on my bed, allowing him entrance. Like he knew I wanted, he shut the door behind him and sat in my leather beanbag chair, across the room from me. "Actually, I wanted to know if I could borrow something from you." He rose and headed for my closet, going through my sexy clothes — the ones I only ever used to wear for my ex-boyfriend, Jake. He flipped through and picked out a black long-sleeve, with fishnet sleeves that cut low across the shoulders. Without my permission, he threw his own shirt off and slipped into mine easily; it was a little big on him, but that was because he was built smaller and more delicately. "How is it?"

"Looks hot," I answered, looking away from Navie as he checked himself out in the mirror. "Depending on who you're trying to impress. If it's a girl, you're wasting your time. She may think you look good, but she probably only wants you for your body."

He looked up, instantly offended. "What makes you say that?"

"Because all women are like that toward bisexual men." I shrugged and slid down until my face was level with my laptop screen which was perched on my bedside table. I turned down the volume, switched the song, and added a few more to the playlist.

"That's not true. How do you know that's true?" Navie flopped down in the beanbag chair again, resting his head in his hands. He had given up and I could feel it.... He heaved a long sigh, and looked up, grey-green eyes fixing to periwinkle. "Anyway, it's not a girl I'm trying to impress, Ryan...."

I tilted my head slightly to look at him, raising an eyebrow. It was no surprize that Navie might be after another guy — it happened often. Navie Heising played the part of the innocent, well-behaved cutie so well that everyone — men and women alike — really wanted to get their hands on him. Navie's look was serious and he stood up, taking a step toward me.

you like to take it off me?"

I shook my head when I realized that I might have spaced out a little bit, trying to hold onto this memory. But I smiled. Cake for breakfast? Definitely sounded like Savannah. It made me laugh to think about it; but I stopped so suddenly that I nearly scared myself. Cake for breakfast. Cake for breakfast.... Cake. It was Savannah's birthday. I didn't even have to check the calender, I just knew it. I had nearly forgotten, but Savannah had this thing about trying to make sure we all remembered these things with the most subtle hints he could manage. He practically told us outright without saying the words, because there was no such thing as subtle for Savannah. Loud, obnoxious, a little annoying at times. Mysterious, even. But not subtle. Never.

"Silus," I called, but my voice was soft. I had to make sure that Savannah didn't know that I had almost forgotten. Of all the things I remembered automatically, I had promised that his birthday would be one of them. And in turn, he memorized mine. "It's Savannah's birthday today. Don't let on that any of us forgot. I don't want to upset him.... He's going to have a big enough disappointment when he realizes that they're not serving cake this morning." With that, I left the room.... And there he was.

"Happy birthday, Savannah." I made my way down the hall to him, smiling. It was a half-assed smile, though I knew he was going to be so upset when he realized that he wasn't getting cake for breakfast. It was just going to be a repeat of last year. I reached out, as if to comfort him before the devistation, but he tensed up and I pulled my hand back. That was right. Whatever his mother had put his through had left him a hardcore Aphephobic with a disgust for music and KD.

Feeling bad, I rubbed the back of my neck and turned to look at Karina. The first thing I noticed was his favourite shirt, which looked amazing with his red hair. Savannah definitely had good taste, if that was why he spent so much time hanging out with the silent resident. "Morning, Karina. When'd you get the electronic notepad?"


:s a v a n n a h:

Rina's question disappointed me, and I allowed myself to pout. But only just a little bit. It was alright that he didn't know; I'd just remind him, and he'd remember it forever — just like Ryan had promised! We had exchanged birthdays and promised eachother to remember. I still thought about it often, and had even planned out what I was going to make him. Yeah, I was going to have to make something, because my foster parents wouldn't bring me anything in, even though they were technically allowed to. Actually, now that I thought about it, they didn't even visit. They never had. Not even so much as a phone call. How depressing. But I shook it off and grinned again. "It's my birthday, dummy. I'll be sixteen just after noon today, and everyone knows that sixteen is a special age. So that's why I'm going to get cake and ice cream for breakfast. Don't worry, I'll share with you if they give you oatmeal or something."

In my excitement, I left the room at a skipping gallop, and looked down the hall toward the dining room. The carts that brought the trays up were sitting outside the door, and I started bouncing. It was so exciting that I could barely contain myself, clenching and unclenching my hands into fists, shaking them, biting my lip, even whimpering. My heart was racing, pounding against my chest. My breathing quickened, and I looked back at Rina. "C'mon Rina-Rina! The carts are here! Hurry!"

"Happy birthday, Savannah." The voice made me turn to look over my shoulder, and there was Ryan, smiling at me. But I could tell there was something... off about it. I didn't let on that I knew there was something wrong. If there was something wrong, he would talk to me about it when he could get me alone. Ryan made his way down the hall and held out his hand like he was going to lay it on my shoulder, but I winced and he thought better of it. I held my breath until his hand retreated, back out of my personal bubble, and I relaxed. He obviously felt bad, so I'd let it go. Ryan turned and greeted Rina, so I returned to my bouncing in excitement.

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I held my breath because I could feel my heart pounding in my throat when Savannah's face normally so happy and jubilant when into a pout that literally took a stab at me. I felt horrible because whatever it was, it was important and not knowing it made me feel like the horrible friend I probably was. Because I was an all around horrible person; that was why Sabrina took advantage of it. Carved marks into my skin because I was ugly and disgusting on the inside so everyone needed to see it on the outside. Like a warning sign on the front door that a dog who would bite lay just behind it.

I was alone in that too large space my mother like to call a 'family room' when we never had any family in it at any time. It was just a place full of expensive furniture and cheap paintings with one or two pictures of us to give it some sort of homey feeling. I never felt at home or like a family member in the room; always alone in such a large space. The ticking of the five hundred dollar clock above the natural stone fireplace the only other sound that reached my ears other than the sound of my own shallow and slightly panicked breathing. Alone. Alone. Always alone because no one ever wanted to be around me.

"Why so glum, chum?"

That's when I turned and looked over at the person who was obviously speaking to me because I was the only one in the large room. (If you spoke loud enough it echoed.) Eyes connected and her baby blue ones had this light twinkle in them that made me feel instantly more comfortable. Either that or I was just happy that I finally wasn't alone in a space that made me feel like I was getting light headed. Her hair - soft - was up in a delicate ponytail and I noticed the few wisps and strands that refused to remain where they were supposed to. She had her hands in her pockets and a smile on her face that slightly irked my comfort but someone else was around and I wasn't going to concentrate on the bad.

So I shrugged. My voice had been lost by this point after having seen her and that man. Red and black against satin and skin. Still, she acted so normal and happy that I couldn't help but pick up on it and forget for just a moment who she really was. I could forget for just a moment that merely a month ago she'd destroyed everything I thought she was. Sabrina at that moment was my kind older step-sister who liked to be around me and talk to me and make me feel less alone and less unloved. She was her; she was better.

"I can make you feel better. Fantastic even," she had said as she walked into the room. I stood as if to wait for her and follow because I didn't want to be alone again. She could obviously see the confusion in my eyes and I new it made her continue because her face got softer and she pulled her hands from her pockets. "Come. I'll make you smile and speak again." Because she didn't know that it was her who had taken my voice away and wiped my ability to smile genuinely from my mind. She didn't know; I still blamed her anyway. I still blamed her arms which were probably scarred and still healing, I still blamed her smile that was formed by lips that called for torture, I still blame her eyes that probably sparkled at the time. I still blamed her - every single part of her that I could and couldn't see.

She pulled me into her arms and I instantly felt regret because I wasn't going to push her away. I was going to accept any kind of comfort she was trying to give me because she didn't know. I couldn't blame her consciously but in the back of my mind I put all the evil onto her.
Her fault. Her fault. Her fault. Because she had taken any innocence I had ever thought of claiming; she had taken the last scrape of sanity I had left. But I would go with her because she made the loneliness go away. I would let her put her scarred and ruined arms around me because the warmth made me forget myself and feel like I was loved. I would let it. I would let it. I would let it. All to protect myself.

It was when a light was flicked on and a room door was shut that I finally payed attention to what was happening. We were in my mother's old massaging room where she'd get personal masseuses. "Lie on the table. I'll massage your back; might make you feel better to have less kinks." So I did because she sounded genuine and honest; like she wasn't about to completely tear away everything I had left. That was when I saw a glint of silver in my view and I looked up to the knife and she gagged me so I couldn't scream. "It'll feel good. I promise."

The first one made my eyes water and had my jaw hurting from how harshly I bit down onto the cloth in my mouth. The second one brought tears to my eyes and made me curl my hands into fists. I tried to refuse and fight back but she said words that made me stop. "To show who you are on the inside," she murmured as a fourth one raked across my back. By the sixth I started getting dizzy and the floor under me was turning red. Dying wouldn't be so bad if I blacked out.

Savannah's voice caught my attention and I looked down the hall to see him jumping at mentioning something about food carts. Cake? It was cake he was waiting for wasn't it? But for what? I hated myself for zoning out but I knew it as something important; very important. I had to assume because there was nothing left that it was his birthday. Cakes and birthdays went hand in hand like pie and cool whip. I remembered he was fifteen so sixteen was the age; a great age. An age I hated because it was the entire time I was sixteen I was cut.

I paused just behind Savannah and smiled at Ryan as he offered a good morning. Already I was feeling much better because there were more people around me and less space between us. "I got it shipped from a cousin of mine. He's got a foot in high places," I typed as a response. My heart stammered and I blushed as I forgot to mention something so important. "Good morning." I walked around the blonde to where Ryan stood and changed several options on the device so that the large HAPPY BIRTHDAY I typed would be festive and colourful.

To make up for being a horrible person.

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I laughed. What a stupid remark it was, too. "Red. I look red? Red isn't the word, Pat. Red is a color. A God damn color. Do you understand? I do not look red. I look like Jesse, and I will not be compared to fucking colors." Is what I wanted to say, but didn't. I wanted to grab the kid's finger and bend it back til it snapped. That would shoot some sense into him. Maybe if I did that, the kid would get his words straight. It's not like there was a thin line seperating colors for emotions, or appearances. It was a thick line. A fucking brick wall, and I wasn't going to be compared. Not even in the same train of thought, and if anyone thought they were going to get a pity note from me because they got daddy issues; they need to wake up and smell the coffee. Shit happens, and unfortunatly, it happens to the best of us.
"Pat, I really don't have time for your fu-" I stopped when I saw his face. I felt like an ass, because Pat was genuinely worried, and no one else had bothered to ask me whats wrong. In fact, Silus and Neveah had left the room without a word to the either of us. Which pissed me off big time, but I was already in a foul mood, and I didn't even know what for. But that gave me no reason to yell at Pat. No one should ever yell at Pat. Ever, because he was Pat. Just like you don't yell at Karina, because there are rules in this world that your suppose to know, no exceptions. Theres a line between anger and being a complete dick. I was dancing on that line, and I really hoped Pat wouldn't mind.

I smiled, but didn't say sorry. I should've, but I didn't, because I was going to watch out for him from now on. I supposed that was strange with him being the older one, but that still didn't stop him from looking like a defeated child. He was the sort of person that made you want to do good in the world, and hug the next stranger you see. Well, he made me feel like that atleast. I shook my head and got up, and gave him two awkward pats on the shoulder."Nope," I said, yawning, "I'm a brilliant green." And yes, when I said that, I was thinking of his eyes. You know what else I was doing when I said that? I was staring at his lips, and keeping my hand deep in the pockets of my jeans to keep them from roaming.

"C'mon, lets go get something to eat." I said after a moment, "I'm starving." Which was lie. I wasn't even hungry, but lying came easy. It was one of those things I grew accustom to. Just like Neveah's daily ordeals. You either think about it all day, or you don't. Of course, I'd go with the one that was more appealing. I could sit in my bed all day, refuse to eat, cry myself to sleep, and complain about my sad life. But I don't, because tears don't stitch gashes, needles do. Grabbing ahold of Pat's wrist, I marched off into the hallway with him, bumping into Lyle as I did so.

"Shit, sorry." I said, letting go of Pat and making sure he didn't topple over. I knew Lyle's reputation, and I didn't shit my pants, but I didn't exactly put my chin up and fight for alpha dog either. Lyle was an insensitive little beast, but so was I.

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Laughter hadn't been what I was expecting, but then again I didn't even know what I'd been expecting in the first place. But it hadn't been laughter. Not that it really got to me; what really got to me was that feeling I got, the one that I'd just narrowly avoided being yelled at. It was understandable-- Jesse was probably just in a bad mood today and I got in bad moods a lot so I knew what that was like-- but even so. It reminded me of too many things, too many times Mommy was disappointed in me because of the... that.

The thoughts departed instantly when Jesse smiled. Smiles were ice. Mice. Nice. Nice. That was is. Nice. Smiles were nice. I smiled back slightly, a lopsided expression that only brought up one corner of my mouth and probably looked rather forced. His mention of the letter-- color-- green confused me slightly, but then it clicked together with the smile in my mind and I understood it as happy or something like that. Happy was also mice. Nice. Not mice, mice was frozen water. Or was that nice? Or ice? All those words sounded too similar. I scowled slightly, irked at my inability to figure out something that was supposed to be so easy. Maybe I wouldn't walk, no it was talk, today. I was all mixed up, it seemed.

Then Jesse's voice stopped my brain again and I looked up at him curiously. Eat? As in food, I presumed. That was what that meant. Yeah. Food. Starving also referred to hunger which was related to food as well. I didn't really want food too much, but Jesse said he did and Jesse was my friend, plus I didn't like being all alone in rooms so when he snatched my arm and pulled me onwards, I didn't protest. I liked the contact anyways; it made me feel more grounded. More real. Made those hushed whispers that were a soundtrack to everything I did get a little quieter, fade into the woodwork a little more. It cleared my head up a bit too. Just a bit, though.

Oh, but then he bumped into someone. Kyle, Miles, Riley... Lyle. That one, yeah. Truth be told, that one scared me a little bit. But I scared people too so scary wasn't quite as tangible as other feelings or emotions or whatever they were called. So I just stood there and watched silently.

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I caught Nevaeh's gaze roving across the spindling tattoos marking my chest, and I wasn't sure whether or not I felt insulted or flattered. No one really met my eyes any more. Ever since I had the tattoos painted onto my skin, far too deep to be removed by any conventional means like soap, everyone seemed to stop meeting my eyes. This made me feel like a dressed up whore with six-inch-fuck-me heels, accompanied by a pair of attractively large breasts. Whenever I noticed wandering eyes, I wanted to capture their chins and lock them into something more. Sometimes, I wanted to point out that my eyes were attractive, too. Or maybe they weren't. Eyes were windows to the soul, isn't that what they always said? On good days, I could describe my baby blues as silver gleaming mercury, accentuated with falling grey clouds. On bad days, they looked like two ugly, plain-looking saucers made to throw on the floor. Not fit for any tea party. Not fit for anyone's lips to kiss the rim, wanton lips desperate for something else. I didn't have eyes like Jesse: the golden brown butterscotch melting with chocolate, nor did I have Patrick's strikingly green orbits, the perfect description of lush forests. Poetry was my kind of thing, and I could write about each one of them as if they were lovers.

Something caught hold of Nevaeh's expression, and I froze. Memories were fit for happy people, even if most memories were diseases that made you shiver under cold sheets. I have always told myself that happiness was for beautiful people and beautiful things, even if happiness was just sitting in the sunlight and learning when you'll cast a shadow or come out of one, or fall into one. Beautiful people inhabited my life. Even if they couldn't see it themselves, I would live for them. I would. Arching my eyebrow at the confusion dwindling in my friends eyes, I rocked back on my heels and watched Jesse from my peripherals, pulling on his own pants and slumping against Pat's bed. I wished it was mine, with me in it. I prayed for it. Swinging my attention back at Nevaeh, my mouth moved to question him until I was silenced with his mesmerizing voice. I immediately clamped my mouth closed because I wanted to hear more. Leaned in for the next few sentences because Nevaeh's voice came out soft, like he was telling his lover a secret. Without the seductive purr. No, like two teenagers huddled under a bridge, hushing things they'd done during the day. “Vannah's birthday?” I whispered softly, pressing my palm to my forehead. Birthdays and anniversaries weren't easy for me to remember, my life had always been riddled with disappointments and they were better left forgotten. Savannah's birthday was different. Hissing a guilty noise through my teeth, I eyed him again. “Their not?"

Soon enough, I heard plodding footsteps escaping the door, followed by Jesse pulling Patrick alongside him. A small frown tugged the sides of my lips and my heart flopped to the side, probably dragging itself onto dry land. If love were paint, my canvas would be empty. Not by choice. Never by choice. Take, take, take. I'd allow them to bury holes into me if they needed a safe place to lay their heads. Didn't they know that? And I didn't want to be left with nothing, again. Because I don't want to be nothing. Finally, I dragged my thoughts away from everything that drove me mad and stepped out into the hallway, feigning another lopsided grin as I followed my roomies towards the birthday boy. “Happy birthday, Vannah!” I greeted cheerfully, drawing near until I threw him a lewd wink. My fingers twitched urgently at my sides, begging me to draw Savannah into a bear hug—but I didn't.


Instead, I opted to circle around Savannah and wrap my lonely arms around Karina. Most of the residents didn't enjoy being touched, but without my little displays of affection, I was nothing. Little more than a shell. A bird without its voice and songs. A wolf without its howl. “G'morning!” Squeezing my arms beneath his, I lifted him jovially off the ground before setting him down. I couldn't help but revel in the sweet smell clinging to his shirt, I murmured a quiet compliment and finally stepped away, entwining my fingers behind my back so that they wouldn't wander too far. They always did.


Something crashed into my shoulder, and caused me to tumble out of my stomping rage. As I caught my balance, I swung towards the assailant with a scowl on my face. I was still shaken and bristling from my encounter with Luca—I still wanted, I still felt like grabbing handfuls of her hair and throwing her in front of me. Just to change that damned look on her face. Instinctively, my hand shot out and grabbed a handful of material just below Jesse's throat. I shook him until he was in front of me, where I hissed a curt, “Watch where the hell yer' going,” and released him. Swearing under my breath, I shot Patrick a look and immediately felt guilty for it. I wasn't completely sure why. There was something about him that made me a little less angry—it might've been because he looked like a kicked dog begging for attention.

Mumbling a barely audible apology, I ran my shaky fingers through my shaggy hair and crossed my arms over my chest. Breakfast would come soon and so would the medication, I'd feel better after that. See, I wasn't really a morning person. Only Luca instigated fights every morning, meeting me half-way down the hallway to test me. Everyone else seemed to get out of my way, which suited me just fine. Most of the time, I busied myself with card games or showing them different magic tricks—it was the only way I wouldn't be constantly alone. Like Karina. Silence was always something I appreciated. I didn't mind him. And I didn't even mind Savannah. It was embarrassing enough that I remembered it was his birthday, I'd even made him a small gift that was buried in my drawer. Slowly breathing through my nostrils, I turned towards the growing group and grumbled my displeasure at all of the cheeriness. “Happy birthday,” I added quietly.

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:s a v a n n a h:

"Happy birthday, Vannah!"

I recognized the voice immediately and turned toward its physical form with a wide grin. Only person called me by that nickname. "Silus!" I watched as he tried to restrain himself from hugging me, then took the urge out on equally as adorable Rina-Rina, lifting him off his feet. It made me want to try as well; I wanted to know if Silus was as strong as he looked, or if Rina was just really lightweight. Maybe it was a combination of the two. Either way, it made me inch a little closer to Rina, my hands balled into fists at my sides. Could I do it? My psychiatrist said that in time the Aphephobia had a slight chance of lessing, if not disappearing completely; but I had to work on getting used to being touched again. I had to let people touch me. I had to touch other people. He said to start with those I trusted, then work outward. I didn't want to do it. I still didn't want to do it. It had been months since I had been told what I had to do, but I would go at my own pace. The thought made me bite my lip, and I stepped up inbetween Silus and Rina, taking one of their hands each in my own with a very deep breath. I was sweating, my head felt heavy, and my fingers were tingling. I thought I might pass out.

"Savannah, are you okay?" Ryan leaned down to look at me and I nodded vigorously. Everything most certainly was. I was holding hands with Rina and Silus at the same time, and I wasn't letting go. I was nervous, I was sweating, and I might have been squeezing them a little too hard; but all that didn't matter because I had done it by myself. But I wouldn't say it. I didn't trust my voice.

It was when Lyle greeted me that I managed to smile brightly. He had remembered, too! Scary, Not-A-Morning-Person-Or-Even-Awake-Person-At-All-Because-He's-Always-Angry Lyle had remembered my birthday. I lifted a hand to wave at him, the one still wrapped in a clammy, white-knuckled grip around Rina's. "Thank's Lyle! You're a great friend, you know that? A really great friend!" Truthfully, I was a little afraid of him, but only because I didn't deal with negative emotion very well. I had made the mistake of staying one morning to see my chair hurled across our room, and decided it would be best if I just... left before he woke up. Other than that, I tried to turn down the annoying around him for fear of having my lights put out forever. Hey, I only weighed something like ninty pounds, or probably less now since I hadn't eaten in a few days. If I hadn't been wearing a baggy shirt the others probably would have noticed. But I guess raising my arm wasn't the brightest of ideas. "Look at what I'm doing, Lyle! I'm holding hands! I'm not sure holding hands with Silus is a good idea, but I'm doing it anyway!" I raised both hands now, in victory. I had calmed down a little bit. I'd be okay.

"Holy shit, Savannah." I felt cool air rush up my shirt, and realized that Ryan was bent down infront of me. From Lyle's point of view it probably didn't look very pleasant. It didn't from mine either. "I can see your ribs. Are you—"

Before he could finish, I had released the hands and pulled my shirt back down. My face felt hot. Embarrassment. Shame. A thousand other things I couldn't fully register. I though my eyes might have been tearing up, but I couldn't tell. I couldn't tell much of anything right now. Just that I didn't want to be here. I backed myself slowly out from between Karina and Silus, turning and running from them. All of them. I didn't stop until I had hit the end of the hallway and turned into a door on my left, into the pool room, where the pool table and piano were. But why the piano? Why? Because it was as far as I could get without going outside. Everyone knew that I detested music, bt I had never told them why. I didn't want them to know. But, now that I was alone, I could tell myself. Stepping up infront of the grand piano, I admired it, its classic white finish shining in the morning sun that streamed in through the window, heating the room until I couldn't notice my own risen body temperature. I reached out tentatively and stroked the keys fondly, lovingly, caressing them the way I guess one would a lover. But I wouldn't know. One thin finger came down on a key, Middle C, forcing the note out into existance, dancing in the hollow silence before falling and settling at my feet. Silence again. Slowly, even though the sound was painful in my ears, my fingers began to play out the first few notes to something that I didn't quite recognize at first: B♭, C, D♭.... Without my consent, my left hand slipped down to join the right, adding in the bass. I heard the music now, I heard the song. I understood it, heard the lyrics in both Japanese and English in my head. Servant of Evil. It was a Vocaloid song. Kagamine Len's to be exact.

I realized now that I was crying. My body had moved to sit on the bench, my lips moved, and voice flowed through them. I hated it. I hated this song. I hated it because it was me. It was Savannah and Eden. Aside from the whole lady thing, I mean.... Either one of us could have sung it and it still would have rung true, becaue we had loved eachother enought to sacrifice anything for eachother. I hated the chorus the most, though certain lines I definitely hated among others.

Kimi wo mamoru sono tame naraba.
Destiny divided pitiful twins.

Bokura no mirai wa futatsu ni saketa.
For selfish adults' reasons, our future was ripped in two.

Tatoe sekai no subete ga
Kimi no teki ni narou tomo
Boku ga kimi wo mamoru kara
Kimi wa sokode waratte ite

Even if all of the world becomes your enemy, I will protect you.
So just be there smiling and laughing.

I couldn't stand it. I forced myself to stop. I put my head down on the piano, the strings crying out in agony as the hammers fell hard on them. But I didn't care, because my throat hurt, and my ears hurt, my eyes were stinging, my face was hot, and my fingers had begun to cramp up. Years without playing or singing does that to you, especially when it hurts this much. But no, I wasn't hurt because of Eden's death. I was happy for him. He was the lucky one, in my opinion.

He didn't have to suffer.


:n e v a e h:

Who would have ever guessed that someone as obsessed with cake as Savannah Reynolds could be that thin. Not just thin.... Anorexic. Bulemic, maybe. I hadn't really paid attention to what or if he had been eating; all I knew was that he couldn't even sit in the same room with Kraft Dinner, and that Mangos were his favourite above everything else. Ugh.... Mangos. Mangos and I didn't get along very well. Not very well at all.

I watched emotion flicker over Savannah's face after my comment, and I realized I should have been more careful about what I had said. Savannah was emotional, and he was very sensitive. I had almost forgotton. With Savannah's bright grin that constantly outshone the sun and stuck stubbornly to his face, sometimes I forgot how easy it was to hurt him. I think everyone did. I think everyone forgot alot of things about Savannah, because he only wanted us to know one part of him. There was another whole side of him that he kept locked away for someone else. I didn't know who — perhaps his twin brother, though he was long dead from what I understood — but it was someone very special to him. I realized all of this and opened my mouth to apologize, but he ran from m before he coul hear it. He didn't want to. He wanted me to have never said something so idiotic in the first place, and nothing could fix what I had done. Something told me that Savannah wouldn't be the same for a little while, at least not around me.

I hung my head slightly as he disappeared into the pool room and I mentally kicked myself; but for something different this time. "I can't believe I was so stupid. He's not eating. He's not eating at all. You don't get like that by skipping a few meals every once in awhile. Did anyone notice?" I had to figure it out. There had to be a way that he could have done it without anyone getting suspicious. He ate alone in his room sometimes, but only when he wasn't feeling well. I figured he probably scraped the food into the garbage then. Occassionally he was the last one out of the dining room. He could have done it then, too. But, no. That just wasn't Savannah's style. There had to be something else.

My thoughts were cut short when I heard the piano down the hall, and then — lightly at first, but slowly growing more passionate — an angelic voice to match. I didn't understand it — the lyrics were in another language — but the tone of the music was rather sad. Not melencholy. Just... sad. Tragic. Sorrowful. Whatever he was singing about, I knew it was hurting him. But then again.... Didn't Savannah hate music or something? But he played the piano like a prodigy, and sang like he was programmed to just do it. I was caught for a moment, and then it stopped. There was a loud, discordant crash of keys all at once, and I knew something was wrong. But there was no way I could go talk to him now. Chestnut eyes flicked from each of the others gathered around, and I wondered what would happen now.

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It was almost like magic; what Silus' voice would do to every single part of my body. I know that the others may not notice it and I can think that Silus doesn't even know it but there is something in his voice. Something that just oozes.... Oozes sex and ecstasy out past his lips and into the ears of people waiting to receive it. I craved it because it made my knees weak and made my blood run deliciously cold and made my nerves tingle and my skin flush. For that voice I would do anything - be anything - just to hear it again. Not that it was only Silus' voice that I liked because I like a whole lot about him. Problems or not. But his voice; that was the one thing about him that I absolutely love. I could melt into a small little puddle at his feet if he just asked. I would willingly do anything if he just implored the idea of it happening.

'Will you?'

Fuck yes.

I would do because the voice he would use for a statement like that would be enough to blank my mind and have me wrapped in chains willing to do anything. I'd be his fucking slave if he asked me too as long as it would be to me that he whispered things to. I can't even fathom how far he could push me with his words because even his goddamn 'Good Mornings' made me want to tell him that he could do anything he wanted. It was a dangerous situation and one I wasn't willing to admit to anyone because I was innocent little Karina with the tragic past. I was not the boy who instantly got horny every time I so much as heard Silus breathe. NOT! I could prove that to other people but I couldn't prove it to myself.

And by damnit when his arms wrapped around my body and shared the warmth that only he could possibly ever have I swear I lost every conscious thought that dared to be present in my mind.


Did he have to speak? I wish I could say something back but the only things that would probably tumble through my lips would be words that would set the world on fire and make porn stars look like hard core Christians. But I forced myself to concentrate on the mere feeling of having someone hug me because physical contact meant that I was cared about; maybe. I knew hugs definitely were a sign that I was indeed liked but I knew it would never be anything more than a hug. When my feet touched down again I knew it was ending and my heart nearly dropped down into my feet because being alone and not being hugged meant being alone. Fucking alone. It didn't though because delicious words that tasted like the best candy in the world swam into my brain and warm breath trickled along my ear and I wanted to cling to Silus because if he could make my spine feel like it was fire I wanted to know what else he could do. But we were in rehab and he was dealing with Satyriasis and I couldn't very well fling my very willing self at him like some float sent out to a drowning person.

Sadly my thoughts were interrupted by someone grabbing hold of my free hand – and squeezing really hard. Not that the pain even bothered me much because I’d been through worse and unless he was driving a knife through it; I’d probably forget his hand was even there. Well; the pain of his hand being there. The warmth and the slightly damp feeling of his skin on mine would always be nagging at me as long as it was there. Contact was probably the best thing for me because I had to know people were there and just seeing them wasn’t enough because I could very well end up going insane. I had to be able to touch them and know they were tangible and solid – psh – to know that they truly were there. I’m a sad excuse for a human being.
Pitiful and weak unless someone else is there.

Suddenly it was gone and I turned in time to see Savannah turn and run as if trying to get away from something horrible. I didn’t know what had caused it; it wasn’t like he had anything to be ashamed of. Hell – if he was in Hollywood people would be begging at his feet for him to tell them what his secret was. Shit. Maybe that was it though. I felt really horrible suddenly and did the only thing I knew how to do and that was cling onto the closet person. Silus. Small, thin and scarred arms wrapping around his warm waist. One hand holding onto means of communication and the other grasping onto a belt loop in his jeans.

My eyes – which Sabrina had called the colour of molten gold and I called amber – looked up at Navaeh with a question. I hoped he would get it. Music wasn’t something Savannah enjoyed too much; the sound of his singing made me sure it was true. A broken bird.

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Today was going to be a bad day. I knew it the minute Lyle bunched up the fabric of my shirt in his fist. But I really knew it when that Savannah had ran off, most likely crying. It wasn't that I didn't like him, because he was an okay kid, really. It was just how things always ended up playing out. How one of the more fragile boys always ended up being some broken hearted rapunzel, just so one of the other guys could play there big boy role. The fact of the situation was, and always will be, there isn't no one that can save you from yourself. Not your friends, or brother, or daddy dearest. It's hard, but its reality. You think that I wanted to believe that blankets couldn't protect you from the monsters under the bed? I didn't, but the truth of it was, fabric wasn't going to keep away the boogey man. Not today, not tonight, and definitely not next November.

Not next November.

"Prick." I muttered, watching Lyle's back as he stood across the hallway.

Turning away from him and facing Pat again, I gave him a subtle look, knowing he was probably extremely uncomfterable.
Either that, or scared.Those were what his emotions Pat usually consisted of. Confused or scared. Pat never gave a genuine smile either, and it made me wonder what he lived like before he lived here. I didn't ask. I was afraid of him breaking down, or worse; telling me. I'd rather not know anyway, ignorance was easier. Which brought me back to Silus, and how he scared the hell out of me. Not all the time, but in my worst moods, he did. Despite the fact that he was older, and could easily drag me into a nearby closet if he really wanted, he wouldn't be such an intimidation. That's not exactly what I would call him, though--an intimidation. He was more scary than anything, but that was just when I wasn't thinking straight, and all my thoughts jumbled together to make a perfect pot of gibberish and nameless emotions. But when times were good, they were best.

"C'mon, lets get somethi-hold on!" I sprinted back into the room abrubtly, slammed a few drawers, and found what I was looking for.

I waved my ipod in Pat's face as I approached him. Maybe a little too close than I had intended, and almost taking an eye out. I liked listening to music while I did things, which was why I groaned when I realized barely half of the battery was full. I sighed in frustration, which came out as a grunt instead.

"Let's just go."

And when I walked on ahead of Pat, I didn't grab his wrist. I was too scared.

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I'm only human. If I told you that my fingers didn't inch a few hair breaths forward to grab onto the nearest persons' shirt just like Lyle had—albeit in a more passionate way, it would've been a filthy, perverted lie. Everyone who surrounded me in the hallway was subject to my affections, though how serious they took me I could never know. Winding in and winding out, I wasn't stupid enough to believe that any of my sentiments would be returned. Even if I begged with the dying hopes of a broken man, and prayed every night against the cool side of my pillow. I wanted to make love like the whole world was ending, I wanted them to shudder against me as if they've never been touched and moan like my name was the only soft sound meant to leave their lips. Innocence had no place in my eyes, Savannah and Karina's souls we're no different, I wanted to devour them whole. If they let me, I'd love them into the stars and I would never leave them. A hurricane plummeting over quiet villages and leaving broken hearts in its wake, that's what I felt like when I dirtied them with my calloused hands and cheap stares. Empty. I'm empty. My psychiatrist would always chew the end of his eraser, twisting the pencil in slender fingers as he tapped my case file on his cluttered desk—telling me, “Open your heart, it's the only way to get better, Silus.” Like he believed I wasn't capable of doing it in the first place. Like I wasn't trying.

And while I was contemplating fulfilling my primal urges; a small, fragile hand filled mine and it snapped me from my thoughts. It was one of those clash and crush moments, submerged beneath something that never was and bumping knobbed knees; hoping for a better day, I looked into Savannah's bright eyes and thought: I'd tell you I love you, I don't wanna leave this place empty. In reality, I shot him my greatest smile and hope it didn't look twisted on my face. Everyday I could see them making progress, espcially Savannah, and as I held his clammy hand in mine, I felt apart of something I couldn't quite put my finger on. I curled my index finger around his, circling my thumb against the his palm reassuringly before letting it rest—too much too fast wasn't good, I respected his big step forward even though I wanted to take him all the way. Tingles of sensation tickled up my warm wrist, it was a different feeling but all the same, I smiled. Chortled laughter escaped my throat when Savannah raised our arms, as if his achievement was the most exciting thing in the world and at that moment, I would have believed it. It was only when I felt the small boy's hand retract from mine that my smile extinguished itself, dragging the corners of my lips into a worried frown. “N-Neveah—,” I stammered, tearing my eyes away from him and back onto the embarrassed, red-faced Savannah.

How hadn't I known before? I wasn't the most observant person in the world, but I should have noticed. His fingers felt so small in my hand, he'd always been that petite, hadn't he? Savannah's eyes swam with ominous tears, my arms shot up as if to say it's-alright-it's alright, I extended my fingers and waggled them, craning low to attempt comforting the upset boy. “V-Vannah!” I called as he backed away, turned-tail and ran down the hallway. His footfalls echoed in the long hallway, and I watched as his small form retreated into the pool room. Then Savannah's beautiful voice coloured the eerie silence that had set over them since he erased his presence, I stood rooted in place and my jaw worked for something to say; nothing came, I couldn't comfort anyone who was close to me. “I didn't... I didn't notice, either.” I looked from Jesse, to Nevaeh and then Patrick. Had anyone noticed? And I glared absently at Lyle, who'd taken a hold of Jesse. I opened my mouth to protest against his actions but immediately closed it, something interrupted my train of thought.

Yet again, my compassionate, sorry-for-Savannah and angry-at-Lyle thoughts were dragged ruthlessly away from me when I felt a pair of inviting arms wrap around my waist. The veins plastered in my contours, throbbed against my fingertips. My brain seemingly stopped working, stuttering through indecent images and pornographic scenes that I kept tucked away. And still he's against my chest asking me silent things I forgot the answers to, or so I hoped. I couldn't hear the sound of our words bubbling around my ear drums, so I imagined the words I thought he was saying—take me, take me. With sand weighing heavy on my tongue, my words caught dry in my throat and if he kissed me—it would set a forest fire. And I whispered, as my ribcage threatened to burst, “B—Breakfast might be good.” I hadn't realized that I backed up against the wall, my arms unconsciously wound around Karina's slender waist to keep myself from falling. My knees willed themselves to buckle, but I ignored them, if I'd have let them have their way I would have been cradling Karina between my legs on the floor. I thanked God that I had the ability to control my nether-regions, because if I didn't, I would have surely been fumbling over embarrassing apologies. The way he pressed against me was enough to send me into an erotic coma. Did he even know that? Did they even know that?

Are you mine? Not just when you want to be. All of the time. Are you?


Sometimes, Savannah astounded me. Even if everything dug under my skin, I couldn't seem to find a place in my head to be angry at him, I couldn't imagine bruising his face or burying him six-feet-under. I flushed an unseemly colour when he called me a great friend, placing a hand through my ebony tresses as I mumbled something akin to whatever and took my place against the creme-coloured wall. I wasn't anything like that—great friends didn't chortle people in the morning for bumping into them, great friends didn't shout obscenities to innocent furniture minding their own business. Absently rubbing the remnants of colour from my cheeks with the palm of my hand, I stared at Jesse through lidded eyes and frowned silently. If it weren't for my anger, I think I would have been as mute as Karina. As much as I hated myself for exploding, I couldn't find it in me to apologize to Jesse. Apologies were empty words used by weak people, they didn't mean anything as far as I could tell. No one apologized to me as I grew up. No one.

My jaw worked and cracked as I clenched my teeth together, muscles jumping just below my temples as I watched Savannah flee from the scene. I'd never met someone so emotional, so completely fragile. Jenga blocks that could be tipped over at any moment with any provocation, a single breath blown against them to cause them to topple. And even though I knew it wasn't Nevaeh's fault, I glared in his direction through flinty eyes and scoffed curtly. “Good job,” I hissed, shaking my head and pushing away from the wall. Today wasn't going to be a good day.

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#, as written by Akantha
Luca sighed into the hair of the girl figuring she could do no more. It was up to the girl to do what she had too. Plus, Luca had grown tired of trying to be gentle. Her irritation at her dreams were making her more twitchy and snappish as the day went on. Having left the girl to do whatever she was intentionally going to do, figuring a nurse would help her more professionally than she herself would ever be able to do, she headed down the hall wandering silently.

Luca paused at a window in one corridor not quite sure how far she had walked but was overcome by the sky outside. It was pretty if not sad in it's own way. She watched clouds gyrate and move past for a while then blinked as red floated in her vision. She reached up to touch the window but froze when her vision suddenly became consumed by flames that floatings past her now dry eyes. A black figure that reached towards her face made her shiver. She could feel the heat on her cheeks and then sensation of sweat dripping into wounds that hadn't been there before. Luca took a step back as if to escape then rage filled her chest and she took a deep breath of the smoke filled air. She raised her right fist and let it swing wide crashing into the figure or at least it was the figure until the vision disintegrated and her knuckles began to sting.

"Ouch." She raised her other hand to rub the swollen raw spot on her knuckle. Obviously the walls were much stronger than she intended them to be. "Well then." She huffed and blew cold air on to her hand before turning away from the window and heading further down the halls keeping her face passive as if the incident never happened.

She stopped once again growing tired of aimlessly walking down these dreary halls. They were so pale and long. Nothing like the warm halls in her house.

My house is gone. A shell of the previous glory. Up in flames along with my mother! No!

Luca laid a hand on the wall for support. She felt that constant fear and pain rise along her spine to rest as a bad headache in her skull. She felt another wave of pain and she leaned against the wall cradling her knuckle when burned. Tears rose in her eyes the she blinked them away just as quickly. She heard the footfalls round the corner and she hid the injured fist behind her back and straightened, leaning off the wall hurriedly. She glanced up at the person in question and sighed. One more irritation to add to her list. Was her own luck really so bad? She pulled her knuckle out of hiding figuring that since it wasn't a nurse it didn't matter. She licked the thin layer of blood off glaring down the person who might have had even worse luck to come around the corner. A corner that put them in her direct line of anger.

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:n e v a e h:

"We should go before breakfast gets cold," I thought aloud, handing my head a little bit as I started to make my way toward the dining room down the hall. The nurses had begun to gather by their small station on the recreational half of the floor, and they were talking hurriedly about Savannah. One of them pointed out the group that had gathered outside the rooms, and they talked about that too. They never really did anything. They just talked about it. It was sick to think about it. How could they just stand there? He needed them. But I halted that train in its tracks. He needed us more, and none of us moved to help. But I think we were all too stunned by the fact that he could generate such a reaction to actually move. Then how come I could move just fine and I was retrieving my tray from the cart and slipping into the dining room with it instead? It wasn't because I didn't care. It was because I knew precisely what would happen when I went to talk to him. He would ignore me, pretend that I was just a breeze flowing in the window, and brush me off like I was a spider on his shoulder. Disgusted. That was what he was. He hated me right now for exposing something so close to him that he probably felt like I had grabbed him around the waist and spun him around so fast that he threw up when I stopped. I felt so terrible. Why couldn't I just keep my big mouth shut?

This morning's breakfast was pancakes and a blueberry muffin, both still hot from the covers that were placed over them, like in those movies where the servants set the plates down infront of a bunch of aristocrats or royalty. But plastic. The covers were dark blue or red, the plates a dull grey with black speckles, and we were allowed to use actual silverware. Coffee was provided to those of us who drank it, or tea, as well as a container of juice or milk. Almost everyone usually got something different and alot of the time, we'd end up trading our food. Maybe just giving it away if we didn't want it. And anything we didn't eat or drink, as long as it was properly stored, we could put it in the fridge in the kitchen for later. It wasn't really a kitchen, though. It was a small room with a sink, a fridge, a few cupboards, a microwave, a coffee maker, and a kettle. That was it. It was a half-kitchen. It was across the hall from the open space with the TV and gaming systems, where we occassionally had group activities, and where I once fell asleep on the couch before falling victim to the lightweight — but still painful — antics of Savannah Reynalds for the first time when he jumped on me and told me that I should be sleeping in my room. And after that, he removed himself and apologized, because he didn't want to give me the wrong impression — I wasn't allowed to touch him because he was, and I quote, "Aerobic.... Ap-ferphoric.... Assferpho— Never mind. I don't like it when people touch me." End quote. Luckily, since then, he'd figured out who to wrap his mouth around the word 'Aphephobic'....

What a cute kid.

I recovered my food and waited for the others. I don't think I had ever started eating without them. I'd never really thought about it before. Usually, we all just kind of travelled here in one big group, but today I had a few moments of solitude before I had to face them again.

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All I could hear was the unsteady lub-dub of my own heart and the lub-dubbing of another heart inside another body. I wanted to see it and how it beat - wanted to see if it was really as wounded as it sounded. I wanted to cradle it in my hands and kiss it better to mend its scars and make it all go away so that it could beat a happier tune. There is no explanation for why I feel this way or why I know that it's sad despite how quickly it seemed to beat. Almost as fast as mine but not quite there because it was used to the adrenaline and hormone rush. Mine wasn't. It was a sad little organ that sat in my chest quiet and alone between two silent lungs. Beating and beating and beating; but never once loud enough for me to assume it meant anything. But his heart - Silus' heart sounded like a proud machine as it beat steadily but quickly. I bet he could hear it pounding in his ears all the time assuring him that it was doing its job of keeping him alive. I sometimes wonder if my heart has stopped at times and I'm just dead but then I remember that if I listen really hard I can hear it echoing from the recesses of my chest. My damaged little fist sized heart.

I didn't notice at first what was happening until there was a slight jolt in the balance that I felt and Silus uttered quiet words about breakfast. Breakfast? I didn't need breakfast that day. I wasn't hungry because my heart was finally telling me; I'm here. I'm here. I couldn't even fathom putting food into my mouth because of how horridly my stomach would probably react to it. It was already squirming and churning itself inside out reacting to what I had always hear people call 'butterflies'. I liked to imagine them as small little incandescent creatures with wings like metallic that glinted in the light. I liked to imagine that they burst free from my silent little fist sized organ and flew down to my stomach where they tickled the insides and made it giggle. I felt like giggling but I never tried because the consequences of such would leave me feeling more broken than I already knew I was. A voice box without a voice. A music box without a tune.

Were his arms around me?

That was enough to start a fire along my skin and ice to from in my veins; there was warmth everywhere. I knew that if I moved even the tiniest bit I would touch him. He was everywhere and yet it wasn't even obvious to me. I could just tell that if I shifted my arm just a little to the left or moved my leg to better stand that I would touch him. Every single fiber of my being was being touched by him; surrounded by him. Silus didn't even have to do anything because I was pretty sure that I would end up ruining my own image without help. Because my brain knew far faster than I did that if I let myself balance to the right there would be more contact than my body could possibly handle. It would be like lighting a match. A pro can light it on the first shot - a beginner has to take maybe three chances to even see a spark. I couldn't even bring myself to imagine seeing a spark but I knew that Silus could light a fire with just words.

Fucking words.

What made it worse was that I could practically imagine what it would most likely be like. I could imagine how every touch would make my nerves spark and jump, how every breath would make me dizzy and lightheaded, how every kiss would make my insides seem to shift places; how every word would make me forget who I was. He'd make me forget my own name and I knew instantly that I wanted him to. I wanted every single thing he had to offer and I would take it if he ever dared offer. Without thought of consequence or how this stupid place would react. It was suddenly all about that single moment that I would do anything to get. Because I was greedy, I was greedy, I was greedy.

And then it suddenly occurred to me that I was most likely causing Silus more pain than anything and without hesitation I wove myself away from him and clutched my tablet to my chest. A flush came over my cheeks and I really want to apologize for making him so uncomfortable but words were always just out of my reach. Instead I tilted my head to him and turned away unable to forgive myself for putting him through anything that made his fight more difficult. I didn't look back as I followed Nevaeh - Ryan - to the dinning hall where there would be breakfast I wouldn't eat and conversations I couldn't join in.

Was Savannah alright?

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Barely registering Nevada's voice, I was nodding like some kind of damned bobble head. Anything to keep myself from grabbing Katrina's face and cupping his chin; I could picture the collision of lips, and my self-control was shaking like a leaf, threatening to spill over in heated breaths and naughty hands. I was suddenly painfully aware how hurt I'd be when Katrina disentangled his arms from my body—how cold I'd feel without his warmth, and as desperate I was for physical contact, I wanted to tell him not to let go. I'm afraid that when he leaves me, he'll take my heart with him; that I'll never be able to look into his eyes again without wanting to devour him. Now, I know that I'll always think of the way my skin felt electric when he pressed himself against me, his heart thrumming loudly against my chest. Mine and his, creating a beautiful tune of its' own. It felt like an erratic beat that I wanted to hold in the palm of my hand. It was a quiet sound, slower than mine; fragile, even. If I held it, I was sure that it might break. Would he let me risk it? Did he know that I wanted him, so badly. Without another word, I buried my face into the crook of Katrina's neck and inhaled; a controlled, torturing action that I immediately regretted. He smelled sweet. How could someone so sweet suffer such sadness? From my vantage point, I watched Neveah stalk down the hall, in the direction Savannah disappeared, and I wanted to tell him that he'd better apologize. I understood how Savannah would react to such claims, as heartfelt and genuine as they could be. Savannah tended to ignore any slights made towards him until he felt happy again, and until that time Neveah would get the cold shoulder. Coming from such a cheerful person, it was hard to swallow. It was the reason why I was always so thoughtful around him—around everyone for that matter—because I didn't want anyone ignoring me, I couldn't handle being ignored. Silence was a spear to my heart. Everyone knew that was my only weakness—well, not my only weakness, but one of them, anyhow. I'm only human, after all.

Fumbling fingers traced Katrina's back, arching across the slopes of his spine; up and down, perfect anatomy. Lips parted just beneath his jawline, until I pulled my head back and exhaled; as if I'd been holding my breath the entire time. Breakfast didn't matter to me right now, either. I didn't care whether or not I moved from his spot, with this beautiful creature held captive in my arms. Well, actually—I kind of wished that we were pushing and pulling each other back to my bedroom, despite the lack of privacy we had. Despite the fact that old croons were wagging their fingers in dismay, chatting by the dining rooms' doorway. The nurses had specific roles to play in each of our lives; weather they acted on them or not was entirely up to them. I wasn't allowed to touch anyone. I wasn't allowed to be this close. Butterflies didn't exist in my stomach. An old kind of sickness replaced them. Instead of butterflies, I felt hungry animals nipping and growling in my stomach, teething at invisible shackles. Katrina was a porcelain sculpture of all things wonderful; all slender fingers, hauntingly beautiful eyes and small, beating hearts hanging ripe from spiny trees. As much as I didn't want to hurt him, I wanted to sink my teeth in.

I didn't let go of him. Honestly, I hardly budged. Warmth tickled my veins, and made me want to smile like an idiot who'd just received flowers on Valentines day; yeah, I was that kind of clichéd guy. Katrina's arms feathered around my neck, and I swore his unintentionally arousing touches sent small flickers of electricity through my skin. I'd be surprised if you couldn't visually see lightning crackle between us, because it felt like I could implode at any moment. Alabaster skin mere inches from mine; skin on skin contact. My mind betrayed me as it rain rampant with thoughts of tangled sheets, and him, him completely shirtless—completely naked. Completely with me. I guess what I'm saying is, my hands were suddenly steady; steady enough to hook my thumbs into the loops of his jeans. Constantly mistaking hesitation for want and need and love, I pulled him closer and felt magnetic waves tingle through my shaky legs. I need you.If I wanted to trip like this, I'd find somewhere safe. This place wasn't safe, and I wasn't free to do what I pleased. I could only do so much, say so much, and hold so much. I would willingly choose to fall without a net. I would choose to choke up my heart and spit it out at his feet, then I'd see whether or not he'd blow butterfly kisses against it. Would he? No. Will he?

And, I think you should know, despite the fact that I'm trembling with my manly needs, I don't want to ruin you. I don't want to completely destroy you, and I'm not even sure if you need me, too. Suddenly, I was leaning forward and craning my head forward, inches from his moist lips and I stared straight into his striking eyes. No bullshit, purely honest; that's who I was. That's who I am. There was something in his eyes that renewed my advances, made my doubts melt away with my eroded common sense and all those I-know-betters'. I kept biting down on my cheeks to keep from saying what was on my mind—he didn't need to hear all those stupid things—because he wasn't stupid, and I knew better than to let my mouth betray me. Equipped with quick hands and dangerous lips, I wanted to warn him. I'd like to think that he knew better. He had to know what he was getting himself into, right? Right now, I wanted him to say something to me; tell me to stop, or keep going. Tell me I'm stupid, and to leave him alone. Tell me he could love someone like me, and that we'd run away someday. Katrina wouldn't say a word, even if I begged him. He couldn't. And I knew it was greedy of me to ask.

Suddenly, Katrina's arms separated from around my waist. The warmth disappeared. The emptiness and loneliness returned. And he had that look on his face like he'd dipped his hand into the cookie jar and he'd done something wrong—as if acknowledging he'd done something wrong, that was what hurt the most. His tablet held tightly to his chest, I almost felt jealous. As soon as he began turning away, words tumbled out of my throat, “I can be—...” My hand shot out, caught air, and faltered back to my side. I watched as Katrina's retreating form followed Nevaeh into the dining hall. “Whatever you like,” I whispered solemnly, intentionally walking as slow as I could manage without dragging my feet. Nurses huddled in their own little circle, and I could hear hushed whispers; how disobedient I was, how they were going to tell my psychiatrist. I imagined them laughing at my humiliation, but found that I didn't care. I lingered at the doorway for a moment before barrelling past my friends, head down, to grab a blueberry muffin. Immediately turning on my heels, I stalked past them again, red-faced, and hurried back into the hallway. Humiliation was the ugliest monster. I wandered into the dark, empty room where Savannah wandered into.


I tiptoed around the piano and cleared my throat, slumping down next to the smaller boy. Unfortunately, I didn't know jack-shit about pianos or playing them, so I couldn't fully appreciate sitting in front of one. But, I could appreciate the fact that Savannah was a musical genius, whose piano and voice were extensions of him. I held the blueberry muffin up, wagging it in the air. My free hand settled lightly against the keys; not hard enough to cause any noise.

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Fullscreen Chat » Create Topic » A Sad Day for Happiness: Out of Character


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Most recent OOC posts in A Sad Day for Happiness

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

Oh my god, Anah. That last line made me laugh so hard. Me and my brother were watching that music video for Fireworks, and I convinced him fireworks actually come out of people's chests. It was priceless. He was like, "But how does it happen? Do emotions trigger it or something?" Ah, I almost died laughing.

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

I didn't expect it to come out so hardcore and completely sexual but that's Karina in his darkest moments. He isn't weak or a damsel in distress. He's a pretty powerful little guy. A little guy with too much on his mind.

I guess it's a good thing he can't speak because that line would've become true.


*Fireworks from boobs like Katy Perry but better cause they are shaped like hearts*

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

First off: "I wish I could say something back but the only things that would probably tumble through my lips would be words that would set the world on fire and make porn stars look like hard core Christians."

Oh my GOD!! Anah, your a fucking genius. I absolutely, positively, dhlfhdlgfdily, LOVED that line! Ohmgeee. You made my day, love. -glomps -

Okay, so what did I do for Valentines day..? Um. Well, nothing. Sadly. I mean, school was pretty awesome. I got candy from my friends. :D Highlight of the day.
Um, I got asked out by this kid in one of my classes named Alex. He's a big ball of fun. (Sarcasm.) He reminds me of an overly lazy panda bear who doesn't have the guts to talk to me face to face, only facebook. Woo. The kids a party.

And hmm.. Right now, im trying to reply back to all my roleplays, and trying to ignore the heat thats really messing my hair up and making me look like a grimlin just exstinguished from being on fire.

I LOVE YOU ALL. (Especially Yoni. You big bundle of LOVE! - hugs - )

P.S. I love you all equally. My darlings. - smooch smooch smooch -

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

Totally working.

I'm sitting around at home wishing that I wasn't bored out of my mind. I also happen to be reminiscing on the haircut I got in grade eight thanks to some prep and her clones, and the subsequent dance it got me from the hottest guy in school because he felt bad for what they did to me.

I want cake and cookies and whipped cream....

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

Random conversation starter working.

I am going over to my friend Chris' house and sitting around eating chocolate cake and cookies and whipped cream. It'll be one sexy party that no one is invited to. Haha.

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

Random conversation starter! Go!

What are you all doing for Valentine's Day? My girlfriend and I are going to another school to be Valentine's wizards, which consists of running around with wands and screaming "LUHHHHHHH" at people~ :D

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

Sure. Let's aaalllll bring back THAT memory. I loved the Amanda Show... until people started singing the damned theme song as I walked down the halls at school! Frustrating feeling, that. I was MUCH too small to do anything about it. Or so I thought. I bit a kid and got suspended for three days because of it. It was my first suspension ever.... -Sighs wistfully-

@Juicey: What! You went sledding without me? Poo. AND you hurt yourself. Double no-no. Bad Juice Box. Bad. Go sit in your sorner and think about what you've done. -crosses arms and looks away-


Okay, I forgive you! You can come off time-out now! -snuggleglomps and kisses head- Hope it doesn't hurt too much. Them sleddin' accidents are no joke. I've racked up a whole novel full of 'em. It's... fun.

Honey: Heh heh. Meesa. Misa. Misa-Misa. Misa no Uta.

Ki o tsukete Kami-sama wa miteru

Kurai yomichi wa te wo tsunaide kudasai
Hitori de tooku ni demo
Itsumo mitsuke dashite kureru

Shitteru koto wa
Zenbu oshiete kureru
Watashi ga oboetenakutemo
Nando demo oshiete kureru

Demo zenbu wakatte shimattara
Dou sureba ii no

Because I can. But you started it, so remember that. Naw, but they should totally bring back Johnny Bravo. And Sailor Moon.... Princess Sisi.... MewMew Powers. Magical DoReMi. I'm probably failing to make sense right now. ALL THAT! They should put reruns of All That on again. That was the best! SUGAR AND COFFEE~!

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

Upfallen: You do you do! -huggles-

I pretty much watched the Amanda Show all the time. And thought it was hilarious. I laughed like: HAW HAW HAW, too. I don't know. I've been looking back on old cartoons lately and I don't understand why they were taken down. I mean, really. Johnny Bravo was a riot.

Juicey: -snuggles- I hate working, and I also hate children. I kind of pretend I like children in front of parents so they don't judge me. I mean, really. I've tried liking them and I just can't see past them being spoiled brats, screaming and crying and flailing their arms in quiet places like Chapters. I'M TRYING TO READ MY DAMN BOOK. I don't care if their cute. Anyhow. Melyssa. Yes, it's totally unlike me. Most people just call me Meesa or Lake, since Melyssa is too long or something. Thanks! I'm feeling better now. It just sucks when I'm on my knees trying to clean someones' room and my nose is like a faucet. Throwing up is the worse than anything I can think of. Ow, sled accident. Did you have a concussion? It sure sounds like it. Woman, be careful! Next time, I'll be there to cushion your head. I LOVE YOU AND YOUR AWESOMENESS. Now, it's not even Sunday, but it's Monday. Which means I work tomorrow. Monday's been getting pretty attractive these days, since she's my day off. Hoo-yah. Eff you, Tuesday. Your ugly and second.

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness


*random crazy ranting*

I miss that show. Why isn't TV that awesome anymore?

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

Yoni; Aw. Poor Yonibaby. - hugs - I hate working, and I hate children. But that has nothing to do with anything, but I like your name. Melissa. It sounds all business-like. I hope you get better, though. :( Being sick is a pain in the ass. Especially when you feel like your about to throw up..blehk. I went sledding with my friend friday, and I hit my head against a tree, (But I didn't even feel it! ) And my friend comes running down, yelling if im okay. I was like, ' Why wouldn't I be? ' And then she told me she saw me hit my head against a tree trunk. And I told her no, she thought she did. It turns out that I did hit my head though, and when we went back inside, thats when I felt it. My vision got all blotchy and I couldn't even stand without feeling as if I was going to puke, so I had to have my dad pick me up. There was this buzz in my ear, and I couldn't hear right for the rest of the day. It frikkin' sucked. BUT ANYWAYS, back to the subject, I LOVE YOU TOO. - huggles back - Its not friday anymore, though. - cries - It's sunday, the second ugliest day of the week. Monday gets the award of being the 1# though. Shes pretty ugly. Okay, im done talking.

EyesofSloth: It's okay. :o I get writer's block all the time.

Upfallen: Actually, I only know two people named Sarah. I know like, five people named Jessica though.( One of them is a guy [ Jesse]) Which stinks, because Jessica is a really popular name, and so un-creative. I swear, that last generation had to be a gigantic party pooper.

Darling: Tsk Tsk tsk. Where have you been? - glomps - AMANDA! Like from that Amanda Show. ( Amanda, Amanda, Amanda, SHOWWWW~ ) I use to watch it when I was a kid. It's real old, and I cant even believe I remember it.

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

Lawlz, thanks Yonbi. I do make an adorable avatar, don't I? xP

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

Sorry, everyone. I am just unable to write, anything at all. I feel that my brain has turned into a chessboard. I'll post as soon as I get out of my chessboard state...

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

Maginekun: AMAAAAAANDAAAA~ I actually like that name, too. And I like Sarah, too. I like feminine names. And ones that can't be butchered by French people. I know, 'Melissa' can be pronounced MEH LEE SAWH, but it doesn't sound pretty, awesome, or cool. It sounds retarded. My parents should've thought about that.

Upfallen: a) Your avatar is really adorable. b) Sarah is a capital name! Though, it is kinda popular. Just start writing it Sarrah. BAM. It's lovely.

Juicey: I love love love love you. No problem. Real life can be a pain. I just started my new job as a Housekeeper, and I work everyday. Thankfully, I get off early, but most of the time I head home and pass out. And now I'm sick. I'm gonna try to post a bunch tonight but we'll see what I can get done. I'll post Fanta and Silus' profiles on Lozey's forum, too. IT'S FRIDAAAAAY. Which means nothing to me now 'cause I still work tomorrow. Oh noes. -huggles-

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

:O I wish my name was twinkle-toes or lala.. Or maybe Poe.
Haha, Im kidding. Telly Tubbies are cool and all, but I don't think I'd like to name myself Twinkle-toes. I think If I could, I'd name myself Ray. I love that name.

Everyone: (Mostly Yoni&Neko&Lozer) But anyway, just a heads up here, sorry if Im not replying back to all these roleplays. I have like no time, and a whole buncha stuff is going on right now. I FEEL SO BAD! The roleplays are being held up because of me. :( Im sorry guys. - hands muffins - Imma try and reply (Or catch up to most) tomorrow, because its FRIDAAAAY. - fist pump -

..I love my fridays.

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

Pffft, Amanda is exciting because she's my favorite Saw character. My actual name is way more boring. I mean really. Sarah. It's in the Bible, so it's all popular and ugh. Everyone is named Sarah. ;-;

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

Haha, I beat everyone in the boringness of names. Mine is Amanda. That's an old lady name. I hate it. I want to change my name, but I don't think there's a point. I know that my favourite name now will probably be one of my least favourite in a few years. So, whatever.

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

It's just a three letter name. Jia. Yeah, Jia...
*Lights shine, people clap*
I don't like this name... And most people I know that aren't Chinese, that I know pronounces it, weirdly... My name is mysterious, either. I would probably like to change my name to Aria, it's so pretty....
My mind is about to burst, so I may post, tomorrow.

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

DAJDHALD! Mandarin Chinese! I wanna know. My names Melyssa. I'm so unmysterious.

Anyhow, I'm gonna head to bed and reply to all of the RP's tomorrow. My exam is eating my brain and I need to rest up. G'night folks!

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

Of course churches are amazing! I mean they are so beautiful but I'm to lazy to even leave home.

I hate my name, very much. It sounds like house in Mandarin Chinese. (No wonder, why I am so lazy.). If I had to say a guy name that is the closest to mine it would be, Joe or Kai.
Crossdressing is awesome but I have no crossdressing clothing.

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

Wooo, my trip was amaaaazing. So many awesome peoplez!~

Are we talking about our names now? xD

I kinda hate my name. My guy name (Oliver) is so much better. Gotta love cross-dressing.