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Post by gwenivean on Jun 6, 2007 15:42:43 GMT -5
The mist of the water coats my pale skin in a heavy sheen of sparkles. Making me glitter. My heart beats faster than it should be as I press the point of the dagger in my right hand to the place right in between the two ribs above my heart. "You can do this Gwen," I whisper, taking a deep breath. My thoughts become clouded and all I can think about is the way the blade is going to feel piercing my still beating heart.
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Post by [ st r yder ] on Jun 6, 2007 15:55:27 GMT -5
The silence isn't broken by my footsteps. The full moon hangs overhead, casting bluish light on the path ahead of me. For a while, I simply walk, wandering in my noiseless way. I feel a rumbling in the ground, and pick up the sounds of splashing water. My stride doesn't falter, doesn't quicken. I pull out a waterskin, finding it empty. Good. I set my heavy, leather pack on the ground with a heavy thud, then turn to the water. I catch the scent of a woman above the smell of water, and it makes me look up with my hand on a knife. She presses a knife to her chest, and her face looks determined. "You chose an odd spot to kill yourself," I say, stopping. My voice is dead, empty as it always is, but slightly concerned.
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Post by gwenivean on Jun 6, 2007 16:09:22 GMT -5
His voice startles me and I drop the knife. Shit! I mumble searching the ground for it. And you care, why? I ask, my voice sounds spiteful, after I find the knife in a pile of wet leaves by my right leg. I hadn't looked at him till now, and now that I have, I find it hard to tear my eyes of him. His hair is a shade of red I haven't seen in hair color. I self consciously rub my arms, though I don't know why, I'm not really the nervous type. Even around men.
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Post by [ st r yder ] on Jun 6, 2007 16:20:54 GMT -5
"I never said that," I say as I bend down and fill up the waterskin, "I merely asked why you chose here." I close the waterskin, shoving it in the pack alongside what little food I have. "Not exactly a place I'd choose," I sit down on the banks of the water, across the pond from her. I sit with my forearms resting on my knees, looking over at her. Well, more like staring.
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Post by gwenivean on Jun 6, 2007 18:29:10 GMT -5
I smirk slightly and tear my eyes off him. Just thought it would be a good place for someone to find my cold dead body, I guess I mumble staring at a near by tree so hard I could burn a hole in it if I tried. The coloring of the leaves and the way the bark twists to move off the tree are all things I make a note of instead of every detail of him, like the way the scar slightly goes to the right at the bottom of it, and the way his hair drapes over his shoulder and curls at the tips.
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Post by [ st r yder ] on Jun 7, 2007 18:05:23 GMT -5
" I've tried it. No one found me," I say, laughing slightly at the thought of someone finding my corpse, and the fact that I wouldn't stay a corpse for long. I turn my eyes away from her, back to the sparkling crystals of water that fly up and land on her skin.... I drop my eyes to my thigh, careful not to look at her. I don't liek the feeling that I can't stop staring at her. Don't like it at all.
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Post by gwenivean on Jun 7, 2007 18:47:01 GMT -5
I laugh slightly, and cant help but give a small smile. Why is he even talking to me? I wonder as I throw the blade at a near by tree. It sticks in it with a slice. My smile grows as I go to retrieve it. I rest my hand on the cut in the tree. I'm sorry
[/i] I whisper to it. So many things I have hurt and never felt regret. But to the plant life and animals, they are a part of me, those I show regret to. I look over to him, my smile fading, I have to do what I must do. I slide the blade across the side of my black leather pants. Thank you for the advise on not killing myself here. I'll move to another spot, more secluded.[/i] I say with a hint of maniac in my voice. I'm sick of the killing, sick of the money I get to do it. Death is what will come either way, might as well do it myself. I think before turning towards the trees' to take my leave. For once though I want someone to stop me, someone to ask me not to go. I walk slowly but silently. Wishing, hoping. [/color][/size][/center]
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Post by [ st r yder ] on Jun 7, 2007 19:03:22 GMT -5
"Did you stop to think that you are not meant to die?"I ask. It is a question that I have asked myself, many times. But it is one that I have always dismissed. After all, it didn't matter whether I died. I would be back. I will always come back. "Did you stop to think that maybe, possibly, there was a chance that what good you've done outweighs the sins?" Again, something that I've asked myself. Again, something that I have dismissed. Unless she has done the things that I have, unless she is really as insane as I am, then there is a chance for her. There is a chance that she does not diserve what she believes she does, as three people have thought of me. In the end, I always proved them wrong. "And have you ever thought that someone didn't want you to die? Would stop your death in any way possible?" My last question is a whisper, loud enough for her to hear it, but quiet enough to seem gentle. But gentleness is not my way, and never has been. It, hopefully, seems as an afterthought, nothing more than something a sane person would say. Someone who doesn't have the deaths of thousands on their hands, hoping to be, in some way, able to help one, if just one, person from death; starving death of just one soul.
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Post by gwenivean on Jun 7, 2007 19:26:05 GMT -5
I stop, and turn to look at him. I lower my head and look at my feet, Yes, I have thought maybe I wasn't meant to die. That maybe the good does outweighs the sins, That maybe someone out there doesn't want me to die, but each time I come to the same conclusion, no one wants me alive, the good doesn't outweigh the bad,and that we all die at one point, why not just die a little sooner than was planned.
[/i] I say spinning the dagger in my hand a few times. I do need to die, so that more people may live. That way I wont be payed to take anymore lives. That way I will no longer see the pain in a mans eyes before I push the blade in my hand through the space in between his ribs to pierce his still beating heart.[/i] my voice has become a small whisper. One barely even the best hearing would be able to hear. I give a weak smile and turn. I walk faster than before. No longer do I wish for someone to stop me, I again realize that I do NEED, no Want death. [/color][/size][/center]
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Post by [ st r yder ] on Jun 9, 2007 19:42:10 GMT -5
I'm on my feet, standing in front of her, in less than the blink of an eye. "Those are thoughts we all have to live with," I say, my voice still a low, growl-like whisper. "All we have to learn is how cold to get." A slightly manic smile spreads on my face, and the pupil of my left eyes shrinks to the size of the end of a pin.
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Post by gwenivean on Jun 10, 2007 23:29:59 GMT -5
"How cold to get?" confusion stands out in my voice as I repeat the statement. Those words could mean so much but at the same time so little, they could be taken in ways I don't think their meant to be. They could easily mean that my body could go cold...meaning death, or they could mean, again, a cold isolation from the world. Not that it would miss me much. I sigh slightly and side step him, again I walk...ready to end this, ready to say "Good Bye".
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Post by [ st r yder ] on Jun 11, 2007 15:34:37 GMT -5
I step in front of her again. "How cold to get to ignore and yet understand pain. And you have to realize that you have to live; the only way for you to do that is kill," I sigh faintly, let the smile fade. These are things I have told myself so many, many times. And it has only just sunk in.
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Post by gwenivean on Jun 11, 2007 18:34:57 GMT -5
Your very persistent, aren't you? I ask letting a slight smile consume me and for some reason his words make sense. For the first time in a long time, something does make sense. I cant help but notice my will to die curving a little, and my will to live growing. I look around me evaluating the surrounding trees and each leave that falls, but after everything I notice, theres him, standing in front of me, trying to get me not to kill myself and he doesn't even know me. His intentions are very unclear to me, but I don't dare invade the privacy of his mind to see, I try to only read the minds of others when I'm in danger.
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Post by [ st r yder ] on Jun 15, 2007 21:09:47 GMT -5
"Persistant is a word for it," I say, knowing that I have confused her. That is how things happen, usually. She looks a little less willing to die. Good. There is a chance, then. I try not to stare into her deep, burt orange eyes, but find my gaze pulled to them. I decide to look past her, over the top of her head. Looking toward her, but not really at her.
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Post by gwenivean on Jun 18, 2007 19:14:04 GMT -5
Why be persistent? You don't know me, we have no history together. Why try and stop my death? You lose nothing. I ask in almost a whisper, the way he looks at me but not really at me, makes me wonder even more...but should I? look at what goes on his head. No it's not right. There are things people hide for a reason. I have things to hide and I wouldn't want anyone digging in my head to get them.
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