Apr 18, 2022 15:31:33 GMT -6
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[attr="id","panedglass"]
[attr="class","credits"]made by gimmick
[attr="class","planedglass-main"]
[attr="class","glassleft"]
[attr="class","glasslyrics"]
Tell me I'll be okay [break] Somebody please hold me close and hear my cry for help. Save me from the place that's tearing me apart piece by piece. Dry my tears and keep me safe... please.
Tell me I'll be okay [break] Somebody please hold me close and hear my cry for help. Save me from the place that's tearing me apart piece by piece. Dry my tears and keep me safe... please.
[attr="class","colorfield-1"]
[attr="class","colorfield-2"]
[attr="class","colorfield-3"]
[attr="class","glassright"]
[attr="class","glassscroll"]
Video games failed to provide a constant veil of safety within the household Clarke lived in. Cruelty existed there and at times, the dark-haired man failed to manage the nasty nature of his girlfriend. In the delightful spring weather, he left home in a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of jeans. Despite the heat available in the pleasant temperatures, Clarke feared wandering eyes. He always told people it was merely an embarrassment, his struggles in socializing making discomforts in his body.
[break][break]
Rather, it hid the darkening bruises across his pale flesh. Today, Janice was particularly treacherous in her treatment of him. An argument broke over him accidentally brushing too close against her while cooking breakfast and the bomb ticked on the final dial. She accused him of threatening her and instead of adhering to his apology, she swung. Everything blurred together as his arms went up protectively and she screamed in bloody murder at him. When she was finished, she stopped at the table and demanded he ‘hurry the fuck up’.
[break][break]
He had finished cooking, trembling and holding back any tears his eyes wished to shed. Through a toiling stomach, he ate, silent as she finished her food and grumbled about friends coming over. Thus, he informed her that he would stay out of her way and leave home. He promised everything Janice wanted when he left the house, from having his location shared with her and answering any text messages or calls to return home. The young, dark-haired man required a chance to escape and ease himself.
[break][break]
As his girlfriend showered, Clarke grabbed his metal pencil case alongside his sketchbook and left home. Toe-stepping was avoided as he paid for bus admission and headed to the western section of Lorsette, where the infamous Crow Feather Park was stationed. The comfort of singing birds, fragrant breezes and rustling flowers was something Clarke desired in his worst moments. He gazed through the window of the bus, observing passing people and road signs. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he witnessed the occasional smiling individual.
[break][break]
There were instances where he craved those emotions, for the idyllic life promised to him by Janice. Yet, each time he felt the intense stinging as she lashed out. Alas, everybody left, leaving the only familiarity as the twitched puppet master in the background… Even Lake had long escaped the bounds of Lorsette. The thoughts and memories made the dark-haired man’s heart ache, his eyes leaving the window. If only he could see Lake again, even if for a fleeting moment. The bus lurched as it reached its destination, the puff of exhaust evident through the metal walls.
[break][break]
The nephilim glanced around before holding his items close and hurrying out the bus doors with the other passengers. His dark cyan hues slowly observed his surroundings, steps gradual as he acquired his bearings. Only moments later would his feet hastily carry him to the iron-wrought archway of Crow Feather Park. Quickly time steps brought him down the dirt path, eyes beaming as he sought his favoured spot away from giggling children and excited cries. An old winding oak a short distance from the primary path offered an excellent view of the area around him.
[break][break]
The dark-haired nephilim’s eyes beamed as he witnessed the mighty tree, his walk picking up in pace. Quietly, the man with dark cyan eyes took his place beneath the waving branches, nestling himself comfortably between the roots, his bent legs a table. His eyes searched the grounds, noticing the buzzing of bees appeasing spring flowers. A smile landed itself upon his lips, and only moments later would his pencil draw the picturesque scene, unaware of those around him.
Ky Altera – 615 words
Video games failed to provide a constant veil of safety within the household Clarke lived in. Cruelty existed there and at times, the dark-haired man failed to manage the nasty nature of his girlfriend. In the delightful spring weather, he left home in a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of jeans. Despite the heat available in the pleasant temperatures, Clarke feared wandering eyes. He always told people it was merely an embarrassment, his struggles in socializing making discomforts in his body.
[break][break]
Rather, it hid the darkening bruises across his pale flesh. Today, Janice was particularly treacherous in her treatment of him. An argument broke over him accidentally brushing too close against her while cooking breakfast and the bomb ticked on the final dial. She accused him of threatening her and instead of adhering to his apology, she swung. Everything blurred together as his arms went up protectively and she screamed in bloody murder at him. When she was finished, she stopped at the table and demanded he ‘hurry the fuck up’.
[break][break]
He had finished cooking, trembling and holding back any tears his eyes wished to shed. Through a toiling stomach, he ate, silent as she finished her food and grumbled about friends coming over. Thus, he informed her that he would stay out of her way and leave home. He promised everything Janice wanted when he left the house, from having his location shared with her and answering any text messages or calls to return home. The young, dark-haired man required a chance to escape and ease himself.
[break][break]
As his girlfriend showered, Clarke grabbed his metal pencil case alongside his sketchbook and left home. Toe-stepping was avoided as he paid for bus admission and headed to the western section of Lorsette, where the infamous Crow Feather Park was stationed. The comfort of singing birds, fragrant breezes and rustling flowers was something Clarke desired in his worst moments. He gazed through the window of the bus, observing passing people and road signs. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he witnessed the occasional smiling individual.
[break][break]
There were instances where he craved those emotions, for the idyllic life promised to him by Janice. Yet, each time he felt the intense stinging as she lashed out. Alas, everybody left, leaving the only familiarity as the twitched puppet master in the background… Even Lake had long escaped the bounds of Lorsette. The thoughts and memories made the dark-haired man’s heart ache, his eyes leaving the window. If only he could see Lake again, even if for a fleeting moment. The bus lurched as it reached its destination, the puff of exhaust evident through the metal walls.
[break][break]
The nephilim glanced around before holding his items close and hurrying out the bus doors with the other passengers. His dark cyan hues slowly observed his surroundings, steps gradual as he acquired his bearings. Only moments later would his feet hastily carry him to the iron-wrought archway of Crow Feather Park. Quickly time steps brought him down the dirt path, eyes beaming as he sought his favoured spot away from giggling children and excited cries. An old winding oak a short distance from the primary path offered an excellent view of the area around him.
[break][break]
The dark-haired nephilim’s eyes beamed as he witnessed the mighty tree, his walk picking up in pace. Quietly, the man with dark cyan eyes took his place beneath the waving branches, nestling himself comfortably between the roots, his bent legs a table. His eyes searched the grounds, noticing the buzzing of bees appeasing spring flowers. A smile landed itself upon his lips, and only moments later would his pencil draw the picturesque scene, unaware of those around him.
Ky Altera – 615 words
[attr="class","credits"]made by gimmick
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[newclass=#panedglass] margin: 20px auto; position: relative; width: min-content; --accentRGB: 129,134,199; --accent: rgb(129,134,199); [/newclass]
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[newclass=#panedglass b] font-weight: 600; [/newclass]
[newclass=#panedglass hr] margin: 15px 0; border: 0; height: 2px; background: #ddd; width: 100%; [/newclass]
[newclass=#panedglass br+br] display: block; content: ' '; margin: 0 0 12px; [/newclass]
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