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With hope comes heart.
Let Me Make You Forget
Is any of this for real or not? If I closed my eyes would she still be with him? If I closed my eyes, took a deep breath would it even matter?

Things have not been working out as I expected. Not at all. In fact I think I'm more troubled by the fact that I didn't see this coming. Any of it. Sometimes I think I'm to wrapped up in myself...I should fix that...help take care of others....help him. Not that I think he'd accept...not that I could help him.

Am I even making sense? Not likely come to think of it...not unless you actually know what I'm talking about....and then it'd make perfect sense.

But I'm not going to explain.
It's not for me to explain.


So I've finally decided to talk to Lucas. I figure even if goes exceptionally poorly then I only have to deal with the repercussions for so long. He's graduating in a couple of months. And...maybe it will go well. Maybe he can tell me why I'm so bad at this relationship thing....maybe he can finally tell me if he ever really loved me.

However...I keep coming back to the thought....so what if he did love me? So what is that night we shared really had meant something?

"It'll be alright. You'll be alright." He promised me....and that silkily cold voice of his, with his arms wrapped gently around me....the feel of his shirt...that look in his eyes as if he knew. I stood there and cried into that shirt, into his chest. I could feel his heartbeat....I became one with that heartbeat. I suppose...I could have read to much into it. But it doesn't matter if he ever loved me, it doesn't matter if he loves me.

I don't love him. Not anymore. And I won't let those eyes hold anymore power over me. I won't let that heartbeat match mine anymore.

Ick. Ranting again. I keep telling myself I'll get a better handle on that. It's not gonna happen.

I don't want to go back to school on Monday. I loved this week. Sitting around on the couch waiting for Mendacii-sama to get back online, roleplaying with my boyfriend. Dreaming of things that might just happen. Free me.

Ummm the following is mainly for Mendacii-sama, but I'm just so happy with how it came out. I know it needs like a ton of editing (or at least I think it does) but John read it and liked it.....so I hope it's at least somewhat good. (I wanted to write so much more, bur really had to stop myself or it would never get done)

----------------------

Name: Blythe Sharpshire

Occupation: Apprentice Time Mage (-currently without a teacher)

Nationality: Unknown, however she has very light colored skin

Height: 5’

Weight: 98 lbs

Age: ~16

Hair Color: Dark Red

Eye Color: Normally a dark gray color – will turn ice blue when spell casting and dark gray to black when having lost control

Blythe has been wearing bandages for as long as be memory lasts, having been her Father’s son instead of daughter. Her Mother had vanished from their lives only a couple of years into Blythe’s life and her Father returned to his old trade – thieving – due to the fact money swiftly started running out, due to Blythe’s fathers gambling issues, and he had no useful skills to get a decent job. He started bandaging her chest down at a young age despite her constant complaints and pleadings. He dressed her as a boy and was hard on her the way a Father would be to a son. However Blythe never came to resent him, not consciously anyway but did come to hate the bandages. She did however never stop wearing them and acting as a boy even after her Father was beaten to death. In fact she began tying them just slightly to tight so that she could feel the pressure against her ribs and to remind her of where she came from.
Around Blythe’s waist now rests the sash her teacher wore to hold his robes in place. When he left her so suddenly at first she supposed she was shocked and angry at him, but she swiftly hid those feelings. She acted as if she had expected it all along, he mother had left her and her Father had gotten caught – people were always leaving her. So as a sign of respect for her teacher she took the only object she felt safe taking. On the sash she hung the special object she used to hook into the timeline – an odd looking object that resembled a compass. The compass had belonged to her mother who was also a time mage who’d been taken by the timeline for unknown reasons.
Covering her right arm and left palm and face of her left hand are tattoos put in by her Father on one of her birthdays. Another marking Blythe had pleaded with him to not do, but not wanting to disobey her Father, and wanting to make him happy she put a smile on her face and held in the screams of pain she desperately wanted to let out. She was never certain why her father did that to her, and certainly wasn’t in a place to ask. When her father died and she was taken in by her teacher she hid the tattoos as if they were a mark of shame. She wears on her left hand a wrist length fingerless glove and on her right arm a full elbow length fingerless glove, and occasionally will wear long sleeved robes to ensure the marks are hidden.
On Blythe wrists and ankles are the faded imprints of red rings, formed by shackles put on much too tightly. Blythe remembers that moment all to clearly, it was the only time she ever admits to being truly fearful that she might die. Her father and herself had been caught, and unfortunately caught stealing something worth a lot more to nobility than the lives of two common thieves. Her father was killed, and much to her dismay in front of her. However, a strange elderly man stepped in and informed her father’s killers that he would take her in and raise her to fit proper society. Blythe argued with him the entire way back to his house, informing him that there was no way she would ever comply to his rules, but the man showed her kindness. He gave her a room and food, and for a few nights let her wander around freely until he confronted her about her gift in magic and how he needed an apprentice. She swiftly agreed to his terms and came to enjoy their time together.
Around Blythe’s neck sits a chocker styled necklace made of strange symbols. She never speaks of this necklace, or how she came to own it or why she never removes it.


Evelie Harte
Community Member
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  • User Comments: [1]
    Contexi
    Community Member





    Sat Feb 21, 2009 @ 10:44pm


    The Squishy Tales. How very fitting. Of course, I've always thought you wise. Decisions and action can both lead to good things. We shall hope.

    I've only one correction and many praises, so I'll post the correction. mrgreen

    You might want to separate out how Blythe looks, and her history. Write one as a person might see her, and the other as a narrator tells a story. Finally, her abilities and powers might be listed at the bottom. Not necessarily specific ones, but, a general overview.


    User Comments: [1]
     
     
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