Leave me an anonymous comment pouring your heart out. Say anything. Tell me your stories, your secrets, those things no one ever asks but you wish to tell. Tell me about your love, your hate, your indifference, your joy. Tell me about what's inside of you when you're reading through these entries on your friends list, and tell me why you continue to come back here. Tell me anything. Tell me what you really think of me or yourself. Anything you want.
It was odd to see the boy in the black cloak. Aries seldom saw him, and when he did it was from a far away distance. Though he was obviously by himself, something about him told the red head that he was not completely alone. A second shadow, the pit patter of feet while the boy was still, or the flapping of wings when he clearly had none.
There was a point when Aries noticed that he was being followed. Wherever he went, there he was. And wherever the boy was, misfortune occurred. But the redhead one day figured out that maybe he wasn't following him, but the deaths that occurred in each battle that he participated in. He followed death, and picked up its remains.
Which was probably the reason as to why he found him looming over him an unfortunate day when a bullet pierced his abdomen. The first thing he noticed as he opened his eyes were the blue orbs staring down at his body, calmly waiting for him to either live or die, or for something else. His hazy vision didn't let Aries see much other than a mixture of colors and lines. But as his vision improved, he noticed the black cloak covering most of the boy's pale skin, except his face, which wore an eerily calm expression.
But soon enough, he turned away from him, and slowly walked away from the Ram without saying a single word.
After that time he met the seemingly younger boy in various other battles, always waiting patiently, turning his head towards someone who was not there but appeared to be so. Maybe there was someone there, Aries sometimes thought; or maybe he was simply insane. Being followed by misfortune and death must have made him unstable.
The second time that he was face to face with the raven haired boy was sometime during Gallipoli. Or was it Manchuria? After so many needless battles and wars, he couldn't remember an exact date. But he remembers the attack on him. A chimera was something that was often dreaded by whoever knew about them if they knew anything about conserving their own life
I want to help everyone.
But then I remembered that I can't.
What kind of friend am I if I can't help my own friends?
this guy from school is sending me messages about this rumor of a ghost being in Shakira's Hips Don't Lie video
I'd totally go and check it out but I seem to be more superstitious that what I thought.
Wow I'm a chicken ahahahahaha
I STILL USE THIS
um....I have nothing to say.