I'm mesmorised by her cool white features.
In awe, I wonder if she's an angel.

x

I drift in and out of sleep, my head against the cool window of glass, the speed of sound whistling in my ear. Truthfully, I'm more depressed than ever before. I'm leaving my life in New York to live with my mother in Galesburg, Illinois.
One week ago, my father passed away of lukiemia and so, having no other family but an aunt in Iowa, I'm moving to my mother's.
My mother is a fabulous woman but her "new" husband, Pablo, is a real idiot. I honestly can't stand him. That's why I was reluctant to get on this plane.
Unconciously, I tapped my pen against my linear notebok, open to a page I had been doodling on. I was sketching my father's face, thinking of what a great man he had been. I now realized how much he had influenced the way that I ran my own life, and my way of thinking.
He taught me what love was by giving his own and what hate was with a long speech about Hell versus Heavan. I didn't care for biblical stories, and niether did he. He taught me what beauty versus ugliness. His words hit strong but I could never quite remember the beauty of his poems. He taught me everything that I couldn't learn in school.
Ironically, he died one week prior to my seventeenth birthday. He reached out to me on his death bed, his hand on mine, and forced a smile. "There's a letter for you in the nightstand. Read it on your birthday. Alright?" I nodded and lowered myself into a chair, to kiss his cold, white hand.
I reached into my carry on bag and pulled out that letter, sighing at the letters of my name that were scrawled across the cherry red envelope in shaky black ink.

My son, Vincent,
By the time you read this, I'm already dead gone. I know that this isn't much of a birthday for you without me there but it was my time. I promise that I wasn't afraid to die go. I'm on my way to a new place. I'm not sure where yet, but by the time you read this, I'm there. I want you to live an easier life than I did so when the shadows creep up on you, no matter how hard your life is, don't let them take you away.
Love, you're father.
I will protect you, son. Watch for a warning.

The writing was strwen with chicken scratches and shaky letters. My nose ran and my eyes watered and I buried my face in my hands for a few minutes before refreshing myself, my head high and my eyes open.
I was pretty sure that I was prepared for a new life.

"Watch for a warning"?

That's creeepy.

I like it so far.

-moans for moar-

:DDD

Woah.
It's written very well. <3
Moaar!

Loli. I'm about fed up with you taking my damn lines.

Next time you say what I'm about to I'll throw you in a river

[dead sris]

*moans*

More plz =D

I don't have much of the second half, but I'll get back to you guys reeeeeally soon.

;D <3

D:

Which line is that?

Yay! I shall wait patiently Yavi *bows*

I was gonna be the first poster and moan first!

*pouts* You're always ahead of me!! ;-;

xDD

Well, get used to it!

>:D

;-; You sick ebil biatch.

O=

-cry-

U R A HORABLE HORABLE PERSHON.

....

:cutelaugh:

OMG IT IZ TEH SHEITZ. MOAR. *moaning*

"Vincent!" my mother, Darlene, cried out in anxious joy, stringing her skinny arms around my neck. Öh my goodness! It's almost been a year since I last saw you! You've grown so much!" She was practically jumping up and down with happiness, tossing around my hair-in-face and kissing my cheeks. I want to remind her that I last saw her in April, just after my father was diagnosed with cancer, but four monthes ago, but I don't have the heart for it. Öh, honey. I'm so sorry about your father."
The forced smile slipped off of my face and I skeleton-like body into my arms, tears seeping onto her blue cardigan.
"Aw, darling," she sighed, pittifully, stroking my hair. "Come on. Let's go home." She's refering to her little house on the boarder line of town. It just isn't a home, though. Our appartment off of Broadway was home. Some suburban house isn't going to do **** for me.
We walk side by side out of the airport and hike across the masive parking lot to her Pepto-Bismol pink car. I neary gagged, shoving my black travel case into her trunk and clmmouring into the white leather of the front seats.
Darlene started the car in the seat beside me and I watched the 6 story buildings fade into small houses and one-level stores. We reached her little red-brick house in less than an hour. The only thing I really liked about this old fashioned house was the pastel rainbow of rose bushes in the front garden.
My life was like a rose. Delicate and beautiful, with one big, unavoidable thorn.
Darlene put a comforting, French-maicured hand on my knee and gave me a smile, her blue eyes gleaming with anticipation and her face framed with fair blonde waves that held no shine. "It'll be okay," she murmured. "Welcom home."
I always knew this house, since my child hood. I lived here until I was 4 and Darlene was too exhausted to keep me. She kicked my dad out when I was 2 and he moved to New York. She shipped me away to live with him. And that was great.
"Thank you," I replied, leaning on my travel case to stared at the roses.
"So, Pablo is at work. How about you go unpack everything and I'll start on dinner?"
I nodded and walked up the stairs to my room. The entire house has been redone since my early childhood but my room hasn't changed much at all. My old, twin matressing the race-car frame was still set up against the wall. The blue rocking chair with faded, peeling paint still creaked in the cornor at the wind. I did paint my walls green when I was 12 and Darlene got me a desk and computer for school here. I'd already thanked her for it.
I plopped down on the bed and flopped back, exhausted. I decided to na before dinner rather than unpack. It was 4:30 P.M. so I had an hour and a half to sleep. I set and alarm and fell asleep to the sound of fresh raindrops on the window, hot tears on my cheeks and pillow, and memories of my father and the sign he might send.

-moans, but only because my pizza is good-

That kinda reminded me of my own childhood.

Eh...but a tad bit bleaker

<<

It wil get better, I hope...

mmhm. But until then...

*waits for 'nother updatey*

Oh no, Michi beat me to it...

Vincent's mother sounds icky.

Oh my, I had pizza at first too! =D

Yayz. I beat you at last!

>=D

*half moans, half cough* My hot chocolate is hot.

MOAR.